Bloody Plushies - Masuyo Ai vs. Seren Morgan

Rules: Hardcore rules apply.
Victory Conditions: Gained by either KO, pinfall, or submission from the opponent.


So, first hardcore match in AFW. Yay.

And against another striker. Double yay.

Masuyo Ai:

Honestly, this felt like the ticket Masuyo needed to get out of her little funk. Not anything emotionally related, of course, but rather something in the mind. There was a block. Mentally, she needed to get back into the zone. She hadn’t lost a single match since her debut against the Entropy Champion, and there was no intent to start today, but she seemed to be having a bit of trouble falling back into her routine.

There had been some time off. Not a long break, but a break nonetheless. More time was spent training than it had to get some practice in with Gin. Just a few days without training and her body was already starting to feel the effects. Lost muscle memory, slower reflexes, dulled instincts. The real problem, however, was that the Demon was forgetting the taste of blood and the rush of adrenaline. The thrill of the fight. She was losing her edge. No had to tell her that, she knew it. Maybe it was after one heavy bout too many. A roster filled with the brim with formidable opponents staring her down. Tough competitor after tough competitor left her body weary before her mind even knew it. Professional wrestling was more demanding than she’d expected.

But now was the time to get back in the game, and what better way to do that with one of the most dangerous matches of her career so far? Hardcore. Cheap shots, bloody bruises, and broken bones-galore. Perfect.

Almost as perfect as her opponent. Her tablet was off, but she remembered most of the details she’d read. Seren. A Muay Thai practitioner and a deadly kicker. More importantly, someone who seemed adept in a hardcore setting. Couldn’t find anything concrete to exactly describe her behavior, but her crushing debut match said everything that needed to be said. Masuyo wasn’t getting a pushover this round, that was for sure. Images from her past matches flashed before her eyes, one after the other. It was all coming back to her as she stared into her locker mirror. A slight grin grew on her face before she softly rubbed her scarf and closed the locker.

Before long, Masuyo found herself at the gorilla position finishing the tape wrap on her hands. She gave both of her shoulders a good roll before lowering ducking down, letting out a heavy breath as her palms rested on her knees. Here it goes. The sound of the koto filled the arena. The lights came flashing on and the Demon made her entrance once again. Throwing a fist in the air as she ran down the ramp, she spun in place halfway down, fully acknowledging the audience and their greeting the for up-and-coming rookie.

Sliding into the ring, Masuyo popped up onto her feet. For no real reason, she gave the referee a pat on the shoulder and a bright smile, who in return gave her a quirked eyebrow. The MMA maven was in a good mood despite her need to kick off some of the rust. Maybe it was the atmosphere. The heat. The tension in the air. This was going to be a lot of fun. She just had a feeling. Draping her hands over the top ropes, Masuyo waited on the opposite side of the ring and looked toward the entrance. Her was smile as bright as ever even as a trickle of sweat ran down her cheek.

The doll maker rested comfortably high above the floor beneath the sound equipment boxes, her precious Baby lounged within the barren space between her folded legs. The two of them had been staring at a small laminated printout decorated with tacky 3d stickers creating a messy imaginary framework around the picture at its center. Stars, hearts and a small obese kitten upturned on its back. Baby seemed unmoved by not only the content, but the composition, Seren could only agree with the observation. Tucked away in a remote hall of the arena, flanked on either side of her audio crates were a phalanx of men. Each was dressed up in tasteful suits, their faces obscured being exceeding large porcelain masks depicting popular characters in current Japanese media.

Tonight was set to be a special occasion, and she wanted to make it memorable. The first night the powers that be saw fit to let her slip free from this arbitrary cage and offer no illusions of what it was she had come here to do. It was almost time now, she could hear the distant roar of the crowds trickle all the way to her rotate hall. The sound of a near fall or a large spot, her ears left open for the inevitable three count the crowd would assist in. Seren teased Baby's belly one last time before  deciding to ready herself. The laminated card found a snug resting place within her cleavage for now, scant few other places it could be fit As she dropped down to the floor, the rattle of the disgraced few trailed behind her, the chain-gang of plushies dragging themselves along the floor as she moved past her escorts just in time to hear the audience participate in counting to a broken dream.

---

Glaring lights snapped off one by one under the crowd faded into obscurity from the ring, one spotlight remained shining down upon the demon within the ring. The last and only light flickered and faded to nothing as the roar of the crowd died along. The creeping darkness  stretched throughout the arena accented only by faint murmurs and the gentle melody of what was reminiscent of a music box. As the melody gradually slowed cracking static filled the void it left before the arena erupted in a ghastly purple glow. From the entryway filed out a row of well dressed men hauling chains over their shoulder. Each was adorned with an oversized mask which the previously cutesy exterior was cast aside for the ghastly visages painting over the each with luminescent paints  which glowed in the presence of the black lights that shown down onto the entrance ramp.

The curtains parted as a large abomination was dragged out from back stage. A massive misshapen stuffed statue that must have been somewhere between seven or eight feet tall, draped across it's shoulders lay Serene calmly stroking Baby as if he were a darling feline. The last of the personal ushers filed out behind the monstrosity, anchoring the platform Seren's throne sat upon to ease it down the ramp, slowly reaching the ring. The chains were cast aside as the array of escorts which accompanied the doll maker lined themselves up by their heights, bridging the gap between the hulking plush idol and the ring.

She slowly kicked her legs up over the lip of the massive plush thrown, seating herself  upon its shoulder to lock eyes with Masuyo in the ring. Her exposed flesh was covered in luminescent paint, patchwork stitching winding along her body haphazardly. At her feet, the masked men stood facing one another, reaching out to place their hands on the man opposite them's shoulders. Gracefully she slipped down into the secure bridge of human arms, a gentle sway of her hips as she  crossed the threshold cradling baby within her arms. Stepping onto the top rope she hopped down onto the ring as her masked servants slowly dispersed back up the ramp until none remained. She strode to one of her corners, setting baby as well as the collection of tiny frankensteined plushies to sit as her ardent spectators.

As the blacklights dimmed into the normal house light, nearly all traces of the body paint had been lost without closer inspection. Seren turned slowly on her heel, making her way in crooked line to approach the so called demon. She raised a hand, two fingers outstretched as she pulled the small laminated item from her top and offer it face up to Masuyo. Within the sticker framework was a picture of the demon herself taken from an online printout. The picture itself had been taken earlier from a fan who had thought it prudent to dress the hard as nails woman with childish adornments, a true fan. She whispered in a quiet harsh tone. "For you, demon." The doll maker inclined her chin, stark white teeth visible as she spoke. "A reference for the reconstruction of your pretty face." Sunken unblinking eyes remained locked to her newest playmate. She had such high expectations for this one, hopefully the demon would not disappoint as the others had.

Masuyo wasn't particularly sure of what to expect when the lights started going off around her. Suddenly, she was alone in the ring, a lone stagelight her only companion before that too faded into nothing. Then, from the harrowing darkness came an eerie jingle.

It seemed as though she'd crossed over into another plane. The oppressive bass and blaring lights. It was a bit more surreal than she'd been expecting for a hardcore match. For a few moments there, she had herself convinced that it was all just elaborate stage effects.

Then came the legion of masked men pulling a plush throne bound together by heavy iron chains. A wretched thing that looked worn and ready to tear from the seams, some amalgamation of twisted thoughts born from a warped mind. For a moment, Masuyo was genuinely convinced her water bottle had been spiked. She gave herself a couple slaps on the face. Still there. A couple more. Nope. All of it was real. The foreboding atmosphere, the human bridge, the plushie dolls.

Then the picture. Masuyo plucked it from the woman's hand, giving her a curious look before drawing her eyes down to the laminated photo. In any other context, she would have thought nothing of it. Just some way to stir the pot a bit. But this person was different. Seren was different. She hadn't even come to blows with the woman and Masuyo could already tell she meant every word uttered from that vile mouth of hers.

This was a damn good mindgame. A mindfuck, if you will. But a mindgame nonetheless. And the Demon didn't intend on throwing this one to her. For all her hype, Seren was a person just like her. Had to remember that. Masuyo chuckled as she looked from the picture to the hollow eyes of her adversary.

“‘Pretty’? Stop. You’ll make me blush.” Masuyo took a couple steps forward, closing the distance between them. “If that's a promise, you've sure got me excited to see you keep it.” Her forehead pressed against Seren’s, refusing to break their gaze. Warm breath tickled her face. Eye to eye, toe to toe, noses barely touching against the tension. “Are you trying to scare a demon, Seren? You'll have to do a lot better than that. I recommend starting with your fists.”

Although, those dolls in the corner were a bit unsettling. She’d give her that. Especially that big one that was still hanging around. Fucking creepy. Even so, Masuyo remembered what she was here for. Monster or not, she would take down anyone and anything that came her way. Seren didn't seem intent on holding back, so neither would she. A wicked smirk grew across her lips.

“You wanna play? Let’s play.”

A sickly hissed chuckle slipped its way from her cheshire cat grin. Make her blush? There seemed little point in that. Soon enough the demon would find more than enough blood rushing to... and from her skull. Seren could wait. She was patient. She stood resolute, letting Masuyo come to her, unwavering gaze chiseled from granite, unmoved by her words. The crowd suddenly roared to life, chants and whistles breaking out through the arena as their foreheads pressed together. Though these two had never met until this day, the tension set the onlookers ablaze with excitement. She seemed ready to go, fingers flexing with stiff sudden jerks.

On the rare occasion her blackened heart would stir with something other than just malice or contempt. In those moments she was most alive. The feeling was always fleeting, draining like blood from a gaping wound to pool at her feet. This one, this demon, had already gotten her attention, which proved deadly to others in the past if storied were to be believed.   The doll maker's tongue made a brief appearance to run along the top of her teeth before slipping back from view.  She had no more words to impart onto her, not yet at least.

Before a brawl could begin the referee had appear. Hesitant to put herself between the two in the heated moment, she yelled over the uproarious crowd "Break it up!" The official wedged her arms between the two to coax them apart. Strangely enough, the stoic and immovable was the first to break away, almost instantly. The act was uncharacteristic of her and in that way, unsettling. Words were wind, after all and the demon could huff and puff all she liked, she'd have to bring more then that to blow the dollmaker down.

Step by step Seren backed away from Masuyo she paused ever so briefly, letting her weight sink in before taking another backwards step. It wasn't until she had reached well past the half way point that she put to back to the demon. As she strolled lethargically to the far turnbuckle to wait it was let unclear if it had been a subtle jab of disrespect or simply tiring of the air of machismo filling the squared circle. Serene turned back around, her fists found themselves firmly planted on her hips as she waited, foot lightly tapping.

Was something different?

Something seemed to have changed, but what?

The tongue was what did it for her. The entrance, the threat, the proximity, the heat. They all served to build her opponent up to the peak. Set her up as a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off in her face. The excitement she was feeling was overwhelming her entire body, pumping hot blood through every vein and into every inch of her. This match could hardly look any more promising.

But when that tongue ran past Seren’s lips, Masuyo was all in.

She clenched her fist and knelt forward, pushing her forehead deeper into the woman’s skull. Her smirk widened even further. She wanted a taste of this woman. Hell, a bite. Her arm was drawn back and nearly ready to fire when the referee reluctantly interfered, earning the official a fair round of jeers from the audience. Masuyo clicked her tongue and went to back away from the doll maker. Oddly enough though, she backed away first. Huh. She assumed Seren would be just as eager to get this started.

Not this time, it seemed. She simply returned to her corner with her back towards the Demon, as if she’d rather not acknowledge the strength residing within her opponent. Although, it didn’t offend Masuyo in the slightest. She would show her true strength soon enough. It was all just a matter of time. She simply backed away to the ropes and leaned against them, patiently awaiting the referee’s instruction with the silence growing between them.

And then Seren turned around, and her heart skipped a beat. It was hard to understand why. The stance didn’t look like much of anything. One wouldn’t think anything of it, but it made Masuyo’s hackles stood up on end. There was a change in the atmosphere, a shift in the wind. A pit grew in her stomach as she clenched the mid rope tighter. She didn’t like this feeling.

When the referee called them back to the center, Masuyo bounced forward from the ropes and met her opponent back in the center. She quirked an eyebrow up as her opponent stood back in front of her, casually adjusting her wrappings as the referee finished his instruction. Slowly, her gaze trailed up to meet the dark pupils of her adversary. The Demon jerked back slightly. Those eyes had changed. It was as if she were staring at someone different. How did she do that? When did she-

The bell rang out. Her body reacted before her mind, throwing herself back before shooting a push kick straight at Seren’s stomach. One could assume it was her trademark aggression. Getting the first kick in to set up for something harder. But for reasons that eluded her at the moment, Masuyo just wanted this woman away from her.

Call it a hunch...

Agonizing. The pomp and circumstance surrounding the start of each bout was something that always agitated her, though given her own part in it this evening she could see the irony. The doll maker bided her time, subtly rolling her right fist along her hip to get it just right... There. She was ready. Her hollow eyes slipped down to her feet to her gathered supports of fabric and fluff. They were watching to, they had seen the change. They knew her secret. Her nostrils flared taking in the collective stench of the arena, neck creaking until her head was set at an odd angle, eyes pointedly staring across the canvas at the demon once more. Pretender. Where are your horns?

At the beckoning of the official she drew herself closer. Taking slow deliberate steps as she counted each one in the back of her mind. It was difficult to keep it in, to temper her want to reveal herself early. There was no doubt once the bell had rung, this so called demon would jump to action. Ordinarily the doll maker would as well. It was expected of her. That is why she wouldn't, not tonight. The question was, what would her playmate do. Uncertain. As she had no means in which to control her opposition, she instead chose to limit the other woman's options. The counting stopped, as did she, placing herself at what she estimated was a manageable distance from the demon, enough to limit her options.

Within the eye of the storm, her feet parted to steady her stance. As the referee reached up to signal for the bell, her hands fell away from her side. In this moment, perhaps unnoticed, the lights bearing down overhead glinted off her right knuckle... The bell rang.

Seren breathed out Masuyo's foot found purchase in her midsection, twisting opposite where the kick had hailed from. She took a step back finding solid purchase. Serpentine her back rolled, right arm slipping back behind her. As sudden as a crack of whip she was lunging forward, her foot snapping out to rise and plant on the canvas before Masuyo as the rest of her followed.

---

...Step by step Seren backed away from Masuyo she paused ever so briefly, letting her weight sink in before taking another backwards step. It wasn't until she had reached well past the half way point that she put to back to the demon. Her fingers brushed down along her thigh, subtly working the metal clasp open. With a brief tug, the leather strap slipped from her leg. With a few rolls of her wrist she hand coiled the band around her hand the buckle hanging out between her fingers. Seren turned back around, her fists found themselves firmly planted on her hips as she waited, foot lightly tapping.

---

...The doll maker bided her time, subtly rolling her right fist along her hip to get it just right, she needed to pry the buckle just a bit further out making sure it was secure sticking outward and not fallen flat. There. She was ready.

---

Arm cocked, fist clenched, her arm exploded forward hurdling her fist directly at Masuyo's face, specifically her eye. The metallic buckle glinted once more. The thin frame harmless under most circumstances was now a makeshift bayonet attacked to the nose of a rocket.

Within her corner the lifeless husks would gasp in anticipation. Were they alive.

Those abs were tougher than they looked. That was Masuyo’s deduction after her kick landed squarely. It got her opponent to back away a couple feet, but that was all it seemed to manage before she got back her footing. Not a second later, she was back on the attack. Seren wasn’t going to be easy to topple. That much was apparent.

Masuyo buckled down, keeping her fists close to her face and her guard up. The doll maker came close with a stomp that quaked the canvas beneath her, sending vibrations from one side of the ring to the other. Looked like she was going for a punch. Masuyo eyed the fist as it appeared from her back, looking to parry the strike from whatever direction it came from. A glint reflected off the fist. It looked wrong. The skin looked discolored and misshapen. It looked almost like-

Her eyes went wide as the reinforced fist neared her face. Her head jerked to the side only a second off the mark. The buckle knocked her cheek, rending tender flesh and spurting blood across the metal. She grabbed Seren’s arm and pulled her forward to the Demon's side with a twist of her hips, sending a kick into the front her leg as she did to send her tumbling away. A foolhardy move through the eyes of the common onlooker, but Masuyo was far too alarmed to capitalize.

Where did she pull that from? If that had even been an inch closer, her eye might’ve…it would’ve...

Right. This was hardcore. Not even two seconds had passed and she was bleeding. Not even two seconds had passed and she was trembling. Not even two seconds had passed and Seren had already started to make good on her promise. These weren’t normal rules she was playing by any longer. Anything went, so long as your opponent fell broken before at your feet. Her opponent had realized that from the outset, but clearly, Masuyo was a bit too reluctant.

She was right to trust her instincts. This woman was dangerous in every sense of the word. It was do or die.

The reality of the situation came bearing down on her like a thousand weights. It made planning her strategy all the more difficult. Seren had a weapon, she didn’t. That was the biggest problem staring her down right now. Should she try to get rid of it? Restrain her? She wouldn’t just let that happen, would she? What if she had another one tucked away? Hell, she could just grab another one anytime. Maybe she putting too much emphasis on this. The woman surely had prowess, even without her tools. Damn it, she didn’t have enough time to think about this. Her brows furrowed as she glared back at Seren, the stinging sensation in her cheek adding a few involuntary twitches to her stare.

Fine. Game on. A tongue flicked the blood away from her cheek as she looked back at her adversary. The Demon held her arms out and leaned back in her stance, awaiting one more charge.

Quick.

Wide wild eyes bore into Masuyo over the apex of her outstretched bicep. The doll makers dilated irises quaked within a pool of stark white contrast, a shrill marker of hysteria. It had slipped through so smoothly, so silently, if not for the glistening streak left in its wake would anyone have noticed? Seren wished she could immortalize this moment, the look on this woman's face. Mere seconds earlier she had been someone entirely different. Cocksure, filled with big bad words. Did they help you now, demon? Seren had stolen it away from her, and was acutely aware of it. There would no sanctuary within this arena.

Another.

Before Seren had a chance to draw back for second strike to mar the woman she could feel her fingers on her, pulling her forward. The momentum wouldn't have been enough if not for the kick which followed, ringing out with an audible crack. Pain? The sting will fade. The desperate reaction had paid off. The doll maker fell forward into a tucked shoulder, tumbling away from the fray. Catching herself, the roll ended with her on a knee. She rose, glaring back over her shoulder at Masuyo.

Borrowed time.

She held up her right hand as she wheeled herself back around to face Masuyo, her fist slowly uncurling. With a flick of the wrist the small leather belt unraveled, anchored at it's top by two slender fingers.. It bounced once it had reached its full length, a single crimson droplet jerking from the blood tarnished buckle to imprint itself on the canvas. The doll maker shook her head, tongue clicking as she tsked the other woman.

Are you suppose to bleed?

Clenching her fingers the tiny leather belt strained as she brought the buckle to her face tracing a thin red line in the other woman's blood across her cheek where she had sliced Masuyo.

There was no need to throw herself at this other woman again. The demon had managed to avoid the direct blow when she wasn't ready for it, there seemed little point to do the same with her watching anxiously. Instead she slowly stalked towards Masuyo, circling in a long spiral around the ring.  This woman wasn't dumb enough to fall into irrational means of engagement professional wrestling entailed. There would be no test of strength or pretty lockups. No. She was a fighter first, unlike the others.

And look where that will get her.

Only when she had drawn close enough did drift into a more appropriate stance. Her arms remained close to her body, bending at the elbow to poise themselves vertical, wrists slightly crooked. The small belt dangled from the right, glinting buckle stained red. There was no way to truly know if the item would pose a threat anymore, itself it swayed lightly, taunting Masayo for her mistakes. Her legs separated, one slightly forward, the other tucked back behind her, both feel tilted outward at an angle. Her movements were smaller like this, deliberate and precise as if the world around her could be measured in centimeters. Reach would matter here.

As she inched closer she would take a sudden hop towards Masuyo, a knee jutting up as she prepared to... and she slipped back, just as fast as she came in, a feint. If Masuyo had taken the bait, she would gladly punish her. If not, the doll maker would circle, dipping in and out with fast wasp position switches of her feet and prominent side facing forward. Without warning her leg snapped outward to reach it's full length before torquing back, the rounding motion directing itself at meaty bulk of Masuyo's thigh. The follow through of her kick was designed to strike at an angle, hitting from the side, but pulling forward as well. Should the demon be found off balance, there would immediately be a followup kick, soaring high to crash against her temple and ear before dragging her to the floor.

What was it about those eyes that just seemed to pierce right through Masuyo?

Maybe it was just the fact that they were always visible since her opponent never seemed to blink even once. Maybe it was the way they never broke contact once they locked, always burning into you like dark embers. Maybe it was the endless white in the pupils, where if one stared long enough, they would realize that there wasn’t a trace of humanity left beyond that divide where a soul once laid.

Whatever the cause was, Masuyo found herself utterly captivated. Even as the woman tsked her disapproval, whetted the buckle, and drew a line across her face. Something in her stomach turned. Her blood being used as war paint. It sent a chill through her body, as though the doll maker were retaining some control over her through some unseen power. Unsettling, to say the least.

Seren was dangerous. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that now. One could assume that from the improvised weaponry and curious blood antics, but it was the footwork that did it for Masuyo. The seamless shift from one stance to the other stance and the shared balance between them. Even the feint nearly got her. All it amounted to this time was a slight gasp. Masuyo was on edge. The statement was plenty clear on its own. Seren didn’t need a weapon to take the Demon down. Though the mind games certainley helped.

A mistress of manipulation. A master of puppets. Is that where the doll obsession comes from? One had to guess. It was unlikely an answer even existed in whatever twisted thing Seren possessed instead of a mind.

Theories could come later, however. Masuyo tightened her stance when she saw the woman circle around for another charge. Quick as a snake, the Muay Thai practitioner brought her leg in and swept one leg out from Masuyo, causing her to stumble forward. What next? What next? Where was the follow-up? Hands were still guarding. Eyes focused on the head. Hips were off balance. The leg.

She managed to get her open palms up in time to grab the leg as it came barrelling towards her. The force was mitigated somewhat, but the Demon was just a tad too slow. She managed to block the temple before the hit came too close. The ear wasn't so lucky. It didn't get enough coverage as the flat edge of her foot slapped against the side of her head, sending a shock down to her eardrum and a high-pitched ring soon after that.

Didn't stop her from being taken down to the canvas, either. No surprise to anyone, there was power behind those legs. Immediately after she hit the canvas, she brought her leg up. Whether Seren would go for a pin or try to kick her while she was down, Masuyo would have options either way.

She winced and gritted her teeth, bringing one hand to the side of her head for but a second. The ringing just wouldn’t stop.

Beneath her foot she felt the woman buckling inward, the solid thwak of her booted shin striking a wall of meaty thigh. Onlookers cringed and shouted at the sickening sound, collective gasps with accompanied photography to capture the moment. Seren shut them all out. She saw her opening and aimed to take it. Even before her kick had returned, she hopped in place, grounded foot pivoting. Like a spring, her assaulting leg had been pulled back to its most tense before it flew outward, high with intent to cleave Masuyo's head from her body if such a thing were possible. She  felt the impact again, a brief window of push back where the force of the blow was in question before it followed through, sending the demon to the floor.

With the proper precision, there was no doubt either woman was capable of scraping a pinfall from an early knockdown. But why? In a landscape littered with a bounty of tools in which to dissect one another, why would the Demon ever assume she would seek to end the game before it had begun in earnest.

She remained in motion. Aggression and unpredictability were the name of the game. Footwork shuffled her backwards, circling Masuyo at a wide berth. It was unclear how badly the blow had rattled her, she was certain in the closing moment the woman had absorbed a good bit of the blow. She was dissatisfied with this entirely, having wanted to see the Demon's head snap back violently, those raven black locks explode around her head like a ritualistic crown.

In the briefest of seconds she took careful notice of Masuyo's defensive curl on the ground, fully aware of all the dangers that were presented while the Demon had the range and capability to make use of all her limbs. To have come down on her from the front would have been foolhardy. Had Masuyo been rattled enough it may have signaled the end but she gave her opponent more credit then that. If she could be felled so easily, all of this would have been for nothing. She had the dark haired woman on the defensive, that was all she needed to know. She could smell the blood in the water.

She was hungry.

Seren had chosen a path of lesser resistance as she came up from Masuyo's side, nearest her head. This would do nicely. Her digits drew around the ends of the small leather bet, coiling the slack around her fingers before pulling it taught with a soft snap. Its use was far from other, a firm believer in making the most of everything one has in this world.

There would be no soft approach, no easy angle to grab or ensnare. She hurdled herself down to send her knee crashing at the woman. Her aim had been her collar, but it didn't matter if the blow struck true. She found her place on one knee beside her foe, it was time they shared some quality time together. True intentions veiled behind the mask of her assault, she brought her arms down attempting to hook the leather belt beneath Masuyo's chin, wrenching her upwards into a sitting position as she tightened the makeshift garrote around her neck.