Bloody Plushies - Masuyo Ai vs. Seren Morgan

She could empathize with rabbits now. Hares being hunted day and night, terrified of everything larger than them. Always looking over their shoulder up at the slightest movement in the corner of their eyes.

That’s what came to Masuyo’s mind as the woman looked at her with hunger in her eyes. A fierce glare that threatened to rend the very flesh from her body. A beast hungry for her prey and ready to pounce. Even more so when Seren came pouncing down on her, knee extended and bearing down on her relentless aggression. The MMA fighter managed to get her a hand up and catch the knee squarely in her palm. She went to force the twisted woman off her and catch her in a leglock…

...until she saw the buckle headed towards her throat.

This was bad. This was definitely not someone she’d want to have leverage over her throat. A couple images from the Demon’s past flashed in front of her eyes. Some relevant visions from past experiences. A few of her alleyway scraps had almost gone down that path. Although, Masuyo had never let any instrument of malice get this close to her throat. Right away, she moved one hand from Seren’s knee to protect her throat, moving to wedge her wrist between her windpipe and the buckle.

“Ghrk!” Didn’t get it there quickly enough, though. Just a few fingers.

Her fingers saved her in some small way. It made enough of an opening for her other hand to get a grip and to start pulling the buckle away from her trachea. Her fingers slipped out before finally dedicating both hands to the effort, refusing to surrender even an inch back to the torment. Maybe with a good fifteen seconds, Masuyo would be able to get out of it soon enough.

Seren had other ideas. She forced the Demon upright, really torquing the pressure of the leather around her neck and wearing the skin on her fingers. That certainly made things desperate. Masuyo’s hands were fairly rough, calloused from endless hours of fighting and full body workouts that that left her dripping blood from the fingertips, amongst other places. Yet they weren’t particularly thick with the material either. Didn’t have the density to withstand leather- rough leather, grinding into it.

Slowly but surely, her grip began to falter. Her knuckles started to press against the crook of her jaw and her eyes went wide against the tension. Heavy breath after heavy breath wafted over her pink lips. The Demon’s hands began to tremble, her arms pulling desperately against the buckle. She wasn’t getting out of this by her own strength. That much was clear. If she was getting out, she had to make Seren let go. How to go about that, she would have to think on. And fast.

For now, all she focused on was not letting go and preserving as much air as possible. When she came up with a plan, had an idea of how to release the hold, then she’d strike. She’d hit the doll breaker with everything she had and turn things around. Now was not that time.

The doll maker couldn't see it, but certainly knew the difference between collapsing someone's collar bone and having been thwarted. Perhaps best not to ask the how of it though. Even still, her knee served as a banner war planted before Masuyo's palisade. A siege of a kingdom, albeit on a far more personal scale. Seren wanted nothing more than to burn down the demon's legacy and rip any worth from her husk to leave her in ruins.

The sunken eyed woman had brought the leather strap down, though the demon still had fight left in her. She had managed to wedge a bit of herself between the blackened cow hide and her throat. A shame, but one she didn't mind. She would have been disappointed if this had come easy to her.

With a flex of her arms, she jerked the belt upward, dragging Masuyo against her knee, wrenching her to an upright sitting position. The demon still held on, trying in vain to loosen her hold. That wouldn't do. Her body twisted, violently trashing the poor woman from side to side, grinding away at her reserve of strength as Masuyo had given up pushing back and focused on keeping her sinking ship afloat. She alternated, pumping her biceps as she ground the belt into the demon's neck and fingers, not simply content to steal away her air and blood flow, but leave a lasting impression which had become a running theme as of late for the doll maker.

She stared down at the back of Masuyo's head, trying her best to envision the expression that lay on the other side of her black cropped hair, through the bone, sinew and brain matter. As effective as her strangulation of the demon was she found herself tiring of it. The choking gasps and grunts not remotely as enjoyable for her, not after witnessing the other woman as a deer in headlight. Her eyes narrowed at the sway and bob of the woman's head, the lack of fight, something she took as surrender in this moment.

The official had come over, rightly concerned she was keeping a close eye on the two, ready to check on Masuyo's mental facilities or call in EMTs if this continued any longer with disastrous results. The crowd was yelling and booing as the match had dwindled down to nothing so fast, just two women on a mat, not doing anything. Normally not one to appease the crowds, spectacle took on new life when intended for her, even if it had the added side effect of garnering crowd reaction. Her grin slowly parted as she surged forward, jaws wide as she came in to bury her teeth into Masuyo's hair, biting down on the woman's scalp to tear into her flesh.

The referee’s expression wasn’t calming her nerves any. Masuyo could only imagine what color her face was turning to warrant that look.

It couldn’t just end like this, could it? A little time away and this was how fierce the competition had become? They couldn’t have been going five minutes, and already the match had looked over and done with. The leather was eating her hand now, working away at her fingers now foregoing their putrid resistance. Even the audience felt the need to express their dissatisfaction. And honestly, Masuyo couldn’t blame them. This was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

The loss of oxygen must have been affecting her nerves because it felt as though someone had sunk their fangs into the back of her scalp. That...couldn’t have been right. Could it? The warm blood she felt trickling down the side of her neck gave a grim answer. At first, Masuyo wasn’t entirely sure how to react. Somewhere buried in the back of her mind, she knew Seren wasn’t trying to eat her. But when you stared down someone as deranged as this woman, when you looked into her eyes and saw nothing but pitch black, and when she had the rope fastened around your neck...rationality had a way of retreating from the front lines.

It was frightening. No denying that. For a moment, she felt her strength leaving her, surrendering to the monster bearing down on her.

No. Not like this…

She wasn’t able to break free. The teeth baring The choir of boos and jeers echoed across the darkness enveloping her. She shouldn’t have done this. A hardcore match? Really? Was that what her martial arts were designed for? No...wrestling. Why? Why did she come here? What was she here for? She honestly thought, just like that, with a little bit of dedication and hard effort, that she could stand on the world stage.

She was in over her head. It was a revelation that made her blood run cold. This was the price she had to pay. She was going to fall, simple as that. She was bleeding. She was struggling. She was fading. She was...she was...

BA-DUMP!

...she was Masuyo Ai. The strongest woman in Shibuya. The pride of the Ai bloodline. A buckle? A bite? Was that all? Go ahead, Seren. Break her face. Take an arm or a leg. Hell, take both. None of it would matter because the Demon of Shibuya would come back at her all the same. Her heartbeat grew faster and faster, heavier and heavier. A mad torrent of heat ran through her veins, flaring her blood. Was it adrenaline? Desperation? No. This had been there all along. This was what she was waiting for.

“Chew...on this!”

With one strong effort, Masuyo would grab the woman’s hair and throw her over her head, slamming the doll breaker onto the canvas headfirst. Unless she was underestimating this psycho’s grip, she’d yank the buckle away from her throat before rolling backward, getting on her knees some distance away.

The boos were deafening, souring her experience as the choking gasps from the demon lay buried beneath it all. The official buzzed about them, kneeling from every which angle. Was she concerned? She should be. Seren had been keeping track of the seconds. Soon the girl at her knee would fade away... perhaps even with some permanent damage to her mind. Wouldn't that be something. She had left a good many scars in her day, brain trauma not as much... that she was aware of. Some wrestlers had a way of disappearing after their matches, which was a shame, those always had tended to be the most fun. This one however? Not so much.

This woman was suppose to be some sort of a demon. She couldn't see it. There had been no fire, no brimstone. She had become bored of this game. So she decided to entertain herself in other ways. Her hands were occupied, doing good work she was certain Baby would agree. There was really only one weapon left at the ready. She had bared her teeth, and taken a vicious bite into Masuyo. She could feel the blood oozing over her tongue as she raked her teeth along the woman's scalp, intent to cause as much harm as she could before the bell sounded. This was already over, and she had made a promise to ruin this woman. She spit to the side, a swirled pink mass of saliva and blood which held a few curled hairs from the demon's head. Content to take another bite, she lifted her head...

She felt the belt tense at her fingertips, muscles quaking. Halted momentarily in confusion as Masuyo suddenly sprang to life without warning. The demon's hands had latched onto her, fingers clenching around her hair threatening to rip it from her cranium has she not been urged forward. Her teeth grit as she felt herself being pulled up and past Masuyo, face planting into the mat. She slid, pallor countenance burning as her weight bore down on her face, the only point of contact with the mat until she had fallen flat. Her flattened palms on the canvas clenched to fists as she rose to her knees, her left eye twitching uncontrollably. She reached up, touching the side of her face delicately.

Pain.

The doll maker hesitated before flattening her entire palm against her cheek, the intense burning sensation so great her jaw seized up. She hissed, throwing her own hand away from herself as she awkwardly staggered to her feet using a knee for support.

Like some manner of harrowing hunched gargoyle Seren wheeled around, scarcely the woman she had been before save for her wild crazed eyes.  The demon's grip had left her once uniformly styled hair oddly clumped in two sections, almost pulled into makeshift horns while long strands of hair dangled down in front of her visage. The left side of her face looked as though someone had taken a heated skillet to it, the canvas had chewed up her features leaving a vicious streak of red irritated flesh along her complexion. Her teeth were bared, stained with the demon's blood, a small trickle snaking it's way from the corner of her mouth down her chin to drip to the canvas. The doll maker's hands were open, fingers tensed as if ready to spring for and claw Masuyo to ribbons if she had been gifted with claws.

Needless to say, she seemed upset.

Stand up. Stand up.

Masuyo knew better than to take things slowly when she had an opening, a chance to turn things around when facing an opponent that could easily overwhelm her. But the choke had taken a lot out of her. A line of saliva had worked its way down her chin with all the sputtering in her desperate struggle for air. Even with her strength regathered, Seren was going to be no less formidable.

For now, all Masuyo was focused on was getting herself ready for another charge. She got up to two feet and took a couple deep breaths. She was winded, the cut on her cheek was starting to fester from the sweat pouring into it, and her throat felt scratchy and sore. She was hurting all over, but that couldn’t distract her for long. It was her turn to press the advantage, though it was clear her opponent had a thing or two to say about that.

Or didn’t, rather.

The monster snarled, baring her blood-soaked fangs and twisted claws. Her face imitating a sunburned half-moon, drawing an idle chuckle from the audience that was immediately silenced by a sea of terrified onlookers. When she looked onto her, this feral beast craving blood, Masuyo could only snicker. The fear was still there, but she owned it now. It wouldn’t control her any longer.

“Aw. Isn’t that a shame?” She wiped a line of drool from her lip, looking back at Seren with a sly smirk. “You had such a pretty face.”

No more waiting this time. Her appetite was up.

Masuyo dove forward, closing the distance between Seren as much as possible before shooting her foot up with a roundhouse kick. That was a feint, however, kept just out of range of her jaw before being brought bringing it down in front of her. Seamlessly, she’d pivot on that front foot, keeping the motion going and shooting a spinning back kick towards the doll breaker’s face, aiming right for the burning red half of her aspect.

As the sound of chuckling from the audience caught her ear. Who did they think they were? They had ruined her moment and now they saw fit to laugh at her?

Her attention immediately snapped from Masuyo as she scowled out over those in attendance. The chuckling ceased almost instantly. She didn't know what she looked like at preasent, but given the horror struck faces she could make out in the front, it must have been a sight to behold. Fingers curled inward, balling up into tightly packed fist, so combat they shook.

Were they laughing to?

Her head whipped back in the other direction, hollow eyes narrowing on the collective plushies gathered around Baby. They were. Those little MONGRELS!

Shut up... shut up... SHUT UP!

Masuyo was talking to her. This stupid little girl who fancied a demon. Seren's tongue rolled over her teeth as she took in the woman's flavor, swallowing her life essence while finally turning back to look at her opposition.

Her eyes twitched as Masuyo was already bearing down on her. She took a fumbled step back, arms coming up last minute to defend herself. She dipped back, avoiding the first kick... almost to easily. Something was off. As Masuyo spun, Seren caught the second in her peripheral vision, intercepting it with her forearm. Her arm absorbed the bulk of the force, but the woman's heel had made it past, raking along her face, snapping her head away. She staggered to the side, struggling to maintain upright. She wouldn't take a knee. She would NOT fall.

Before she could steady herself, she leaned back where she had come from, taking two uneven steps to throw a wide blind backhand out where she thought Masuyo might be, trying to cut off the woman from pursuit.

Something had snapped in Seren’s head. Or rather, another thing had snapped in Seren’s head. The facial expressions were the first hint. Masuyo had judged it at first to be some sort of intimidation tactic, trying to use her rage to keep her mind in the match, her efforts focused on the Demon before her.

That theory faltered somewhat when Masuyo charged and she...looked away. First to her, then the audience, then the creepy-as-hell dolls, then back again. She never considered herself an expert on the human mind by any stretch of the imagination, but it didn’t much deductive reasoning to see that Seren was very clearly experiencing some kind of split. She was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to unleash hell. Whether Masuyo would have to duck and cover or face the flames head-on, only time would tell.

In the meantime, she was happy to get even with the twisted Muay Thai fighter. The Demon sent a couple of kicks her way, hoping to strike true on the second. She felt the heel collide with the woman’s cheek. Felt the tender flesh sway and sizzle against the hard impact of her foot. A slight grin made its way to the Demon’s face, seeing her opponent lose her sure footing. So, it seemed like she was losing her mind in more way than one. Her defense had begun to falter and the doll breaker snapped to the side with an audible smack of her gums.

Of course, Seren was a tougher breed.  She wouldn’t go down so easily, that much was obvious, but it was the swipe that caught Masuyo off guard. By which she meant, it didn’t, which is what made it so surprising. It was so haphazard, so obvious. It almost seemed a tad out of character. Then again, what was considered in character for this woman? Aside from pain. That seemed to be the only constant.

Nevertheless, she’d left herself open. Perfect.

“Get down.” Masuyo muttered, grabbing the woman’s arm as it came towards her.

With the arm secure in her grasp, she would twist Seren’s arm around as the MMA maven would yank the woman towards the ground, forcing all of her weight onto the doll maker’s shoulder. Masuyo would then drop her knees, forcing her opponent to the ground chest first with the MMA maven on top and her adversary’s bound arm pointed towards the ceiling, catching her in a hiji kime osae armbar.

With each passing moment, she would twist her body further and further, upping the pressure on the woman’s shoulder. Seren surely thought that she was the only one in the ring adept at administering pain. The Demon would proudly demonstrate her ignorance.

The doll maker has suffered some sort of break in the moment, that much was clear as she descended down a pathway to primal aggression. The calculated woman from earlier momentarily lost in a tide of blinding rage. There had been no rhyme or reason to the whirling backhand, only a sudden want to destroy.

Her arm had flown wide long before she turned enough to catch sight of Masuyo, by then it was already too late. There was a clear moment of realization as her wrists was grasped. She screamed in rage as she was circled down onto the mat, staggering to follow her body as it was lead by Masuyo. As she hit the canvas she hissed loudly as her arm was wrenched unnaturally, a brief attempt to fight the hold was found pointless. Leverage, positioning, with her arm twisted like this there was little she could do, with that particular arm. She pounded the ring with her fist as she felt her shoulder tightening, how long would it last before something popped, tore, or snapped?

Deep in her mind, she was curious...

An eye glared up at Masuyo's from beneath her, face pressed against the flat of the ring. She gnashed her teeth together growling loudly with each inching twist applied to her extended arm. Her fist unraveled into violent grasping fingers put to the task of freeing herself and maiming this demon who lay back against her. She threw a long arm up and over, awkward in its positioning, but the distance between them wasn't much. Her hooked digits brought themselves down like talons, plunging at the exposed bloody wounds she had gifted Masuyo with moments earlier.  

If she couldn't get the woman to release her here and now, she was going to make her pay for her shoulder with as much flesh as she could rend from the woman's skull before her arm gave out.

She wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Perhaps a lesson etched into the back of her mind, or a voice beckoning her from the past, but for whatever reason, the MMA maven remembered not to crank the hold straight away.

While she had long abandoned the peaceful methodology behind aikido, Masuyo had always acted with some degree of restraint when demonstrating her prowess. It was her family tradition after all. Their technique. Their pride. She knew better than to exploit it for her own gain. She was an expert after all. Without prudence, she was no better than the ranks of thugs and criminals she’d taken down.

But Seren was very quickly making herself an exception to that rule. She fought the hold better than most. Not by much, but with enough resistance to really test the Demon’s mettle.

For that reason, she expected Seren to fight back. Just not in the manner in which she actually did. Her free hand suddenly slapped against the side of Masuyo’s face before scraping against her cheek. Her middle finger got caught in a snag on the way down though. A cut, specifically. The cut she’d made with buckle, still as fresh and tender as it was minutes ago. Blood pooled around the sunken finger before spilling over and running down the Demon’s cheek. She bared her pearly whites, feeling her entire face heat up as her nail dug deeper and deeper into the wound.

She didn’t surrender. At least, not right away. She bared with the pain, as much as she could. It felt as though the flesh was being ripped out from under her cheek, rending flesh and scraping bone down to the foundations. But she bore with it. By the Buddha did she bare with it. She twisted her body further, pushing the elbow towards the breaking point. She could feel the rattling and muscles freeing.

But the pain was just too much. She had to let go, but she wouldn’t just let Seren have the advantage.

Masuyo grabbed the hand and wrenched it away, droplets of blood drawing a line in the air before finally soaking the canvas. Abandoning the hold entirely, she’d roll off Seren’s back, pinning her arm down to the canvas with one knee planted on her wrist. Not a good lock, but it was enough to keep her down long enough for what was planned next. Reeling her arm back, Masuyo would lean down and send a series of hard elbow strikes to the back of her head.

Perhaps a concussion and a few days without her vision would snap the sense back into her.

She had latched on as hard as she could, digging, scratching, clawing at Masuyo as she showed no signs of stopping. Seren could feel the warm thick blood trickling down her fingertips, but like this she was unable to siphon much joy from it.

She hated this. She hated the demon. She wanted to have fun with the woman but she was making it impossible for them to play. Her arm shook violently as it was reaching the point of no return. She slammed her own forehead to the canvas as she screamed bloody murder, not in pain but frustration.

She could take he pain, to some degree she thought she might actually enjoy it. Next to her love for Baby, it was the next strongest feeling she recalled really having and to that end she felt an attachment. But she couldn't, she wouldn't let this heinous woman break her.

There had been a momentary relief before her arm was wrenched again, the demon shifting over top of her. She was already struggling to pull herself up when Masuyo pinned her twisted arm to the mat. Like a wild animal caught in a bear trap her violent pulled and yanked at her pinned limb, there seemed to be little care for the damage such a thing would do.

She wanted freedom.

A blow slammed into the back of her head the impact rattling her skull, bouncing her head off the mat. She felt a biting chill shoot through her teeth of all places.  The doll maker's wild thrashing had finally bore fruit as she ripped herself free. She threw her weight to the side, to get in motion as a second elbow clipped her in retreat. As she turned onto her back, her leg shot out, sending her heel rocking up at Masuyo.

She wouldn't stay, she had to give herself room. She would roll, and not stop, making her way to the ring to throw herself outside to the floor. She clattered onto the ground, on her knees before the entryway and the towering abomination she road in on. Hunched over she hissed, nursing her arm with vigorous rubbing to work the blood through it. Staring back to where she had come from.