Cicilia De'Reighnhardt vs Death Bunny!

Cicilia was easily taken out but the Rabbit, thrown down and to her side with little resistance from the boxer... Death-Bunny had done what few other women had actually accomplished: taking out a Juggernaut like her in a straight up fight. No tricks, no mind-games... Just a test of raw power and skill and the Death Bunny had trumped her in one of those handily. The flip on her spine got out a loud grunt from the German, the last one she would make as the vice that was DB's arm wrenched back her head, the girl's bicep digging into her throat. It was perhaps the only way to truly hang a person without ever investing in rope, not an ounce of slack given as the boxer struggled and choked for air...

Cicilia knew it was over. In what amount of consciousness she had left, the boxer knew she was done. It was written on the wall in such a way, one would have to be a FOOL to miss it. She wouldn't however, let the rabbit have the satisfaction of watching her quietly give up. Every ounce of air she had left in her chest she spent fighting and clawing at DB's arm, desperate to free herself if only to fight another second. She desperately tried to find the strength in her body to free herself but it was like trying to mine a tapped whole in the ground... There was simply nothing left to harvest.

And so... Slowly and brutally but surely as well, Cicilia started to fade from this world. With her air-supply cut off, DB whitled down the last bits of the German's strength until there was nothing left. She HATED that she lost... Her last few moments of conscious thought was left ruing the fact that she couldn't just crush the rabbit beneath her boot-heel. She hated that she couldn't have dragged this out, outlast someone like her... She hated that she wasn't good enough to finish the fight she started. Cicilia spent her last moments regretting that she wasn't strong enough to have her momentum carry to the next level, that she had been defeated by this woman... But then... the warrior within her reveled in the fight... that she had made it this far... And it was the last thing she felt as consciousness slipped from her.

Whatever rationale was leftover in D.B.'s rattled sensibilities after having her body just been put through the near literal grinder had remembered something integral early on in the match. Cicilia wasn't dubbed the Juggernaut simply for marketing purposes, although it probably didn't exactly hurt her popularity in that regard. The lumbering and nigh comatose rookie shuffling forward seemed to shirk off devastating blows with ease and come back for seconds after serving you up some of her own. Being the inhuman equivalent to a veritable damage sponge meant that even if D.B. did manage to wallop the ever living daylights out of her, she might just maybe surprise the world and keep this crimson-soaked brawl going into the night.

D.B. had hoped to save the debuting of her submission finisher for whenever Cecilia Northman was in her cross hairs again from across a ring, all as a little bit of well due karma for the Swedish powerhouse choking the life of D.B. in their last match. But D.B. supposed this trash talking puke put up enough of a fight to warrant breaking out one of her hidden aces up her sleeve. And it just so happened to be the perfect maneuver for this situation, a submission finisher that only gets worse if you panic against an opponent who has proven herself prone to doing just that, which is what D.B. just so happened to remember. D.B. balanced herself on her feet while sprawled out over Cici's back, flexing her bicep against her foe's windpipe while viciously wrenching her head backward until there was no more bloodied gurgling...no more scratching...no more squirming...just...flaccid lifelessness...and a sweet silence only accompanied by some wheezing breaths...    

*RING*RING*RING*

The frantic ringing of the bell by the time keeper echoed throughout with D.B.'s theme soon afterward accompanying it, the Bunny Reaper than taking a slumping seat beside Cici while hunching herself over. Her hoarse breathing pattern having a raspy and almost otherworldly inflection as her eyes remained out of glimpse from any video camera lens, as if D.B. were a ravenous predator standing guard around the carcass of an eviscerated prey. Her gloved hand being raised to palm her face before brushing it over the top of her head, a sanguine hue to her purple locks as she now gazed skyward but with her eyes still fastened shut...and a jovial smile as if she just been baptized in the crimson showers of both their blood...

Winner : Death Bunny