SS 16: Angel Vs. Jessica Wright

The Latina's body jerked heavily as it struck the canvas, bucking up in pain before going still again against the mat. Jessica's strength was insane, right on par with someone like Styx. All Angel could think about at the moment was how much the suplex had hurt, and how things could only get worse for her from here.

Which is exactly what happened next. Jessica effortlessly pulled the former champion up to her feet, and within seconds had sent her flying towards the corner. Angel slammed against the turnbuckle, striking it hard, and eventually turning outwards, leaning back against it. Her body was hurting, and her breathing was slow, and forced. Her head hung low, but her eyes were aimed upwards, staring across the ring towards the Violet, wonder what the brute had planned for her next.

Jessica charged. That was true of most of the things she did, in the wrestling ring and in life. She was not one to sit by and let the world come to her. Her powerful legs churned with fury as the Violent Violet moved towards her foe. The successful move gave her a new vitality, and Jessica hoped it would take her all of the way to the end of the line. Purple hair flew behind her, and Jessica was poetry in motion. Her muscles flexed and she bounced as she tore across the ring like lightning towards her opponent.

Her eyes, however, never wavered. They were focused dead ahead, and only armageddon could distract her. And even then, it would have to be a fairly spectacular apocalypse to get her to stop. Not any of that rapture bullshit. It would have to be sulfur and hellfire for Jessica to shift her gaze. Full of demonic fury, Jessica did not slow as she approached the Latina. Her shoulder, made hard by the iron, sought Angel's stomach.

Angel needed a breather. She needed a chance to rest and to catch her breath. She needed a chance to recover, but Jessica wasn't going to give it to her.

The Violet charged across the ring, and like the proverbial deer in the headlights, the Latina couldn't do anything to stop her or to get out of the way. All she could do was stare as Jessica rushed towards her, full of fury and fire and vengeance.

When Jessica went low, and her shoulder slammed into Angel taut, toned stomach, the Latina's entire body jerked. She let out a howl, then collapsed forwards, leaning against the bigger brute. That attack would have killed a lesser woman, and as it stood, Angel was barely hanging on herself now.

Jessica felt like a battering ram of old. She had never much liked history, or school as a whole for that matter, but the images of old knights tearing down the walls of a great castle came to her now. The Violent Violet removed herself from Angel. Her reptilian hindbrain was always the main thing working in her mind, and it was on overload here. Before the battle, she had had pretenses of trying to get the belt and win glory for herself and bring respect to the name Jessica Wright, but that was gone now. At the moment, all she wanted to do was destroy.

So Jessica set about her task. She felt she had weakened Angel to a state where she could act with impunity. The Violent Violet picked up her opponent and carefully sat her on the top rope. Jessica would then climb to the second rope herself and snake her arm around Angel's neck. This was a daring move, but Jessica stopped doubting herself some time ago. It was winning time now, and Jessica intended to not only survive, but to thrive.

She breathed out. Then she launched into action. She pulled Angel up and back, falling down herself. It was a superplex of the most serious magnitude, and Jessica used it as a means to bringing an end to Angel.

Angel's entire body was sore. Her entire body was hurting. It had a been a long, long time since she had felt like this. In fact, the last time she had hurt this bad was in her match with Styx, and that was a full year ago.

Something told her that by the time this was over, that Jessica was going to find a way to hurt her even more than River did.

Like she weight nothing, Jessica lifted up the former champion, sitting her up on the top rope. She soon followed after, and Angel could do nothing but groan weakly as the Violet hauled her upwards. She gagged slighly as she felt Jessica's arm around her neck, and even went to fight back, lifting her arms upwards, weakly striking at Jessica's back, in the vain hopes of getting her to let go.

But it was for naught. Jessica was on fire, and quick as a bullet she lifted Angel up, falling back and slamming the Latina into the canvas. Angel's body struck the mat rather hard, wiggling and writhing in pain for a few moments before going still again, lying there on her back, once more unmoving and quiet.

Jessica was lying down too. She sat up and recognized that Angel had been trying to get out of it while she was still on the top rope. The residual pain in her back told her so, but Jessica didn't really want to believe it. She had a hard time comprehending that anyone would resist her now, after all the blows she had brought down upon the former champion. As she looked out at the crowd, she realized that some of them saw the strength that it must have taken to perform such a maneuver, especially at this stage in the match. Despite their very natures, they came to appreciate Jessica for who she really was.

Because who she really was was a winner. Maybe even a champion. She moved over and hooked Angel's leg. The Latina was washed up, a total has-been, and greater women would not have been able to stay awake through that. And Angel was not one of those greater women.

ONE!

The little ref girl started counting. Jessica usually prayed that her opponent would stay down in situations like that with her eyes closed and her heart full of hope, but she wasn't doing that now. Her purple eyes were open to the world now and all the possibilities that came with it.

Some women in the AFW knew when they were beat. There were some women who, after a long and grueling match, would accept their loss with grace and dignity. Others wouldn't accept it, and get upset, or angry, but they'd at least know when to give up and stop fighting back.

Angel was not one of those women.

"TWO...!"

She was stubborn. She had always been stubborn, and as her years in the AFW went by, she had grown more and more so. She had taken beatings from the best of the best, and still refused to give in, not accepting her loss until every bit of her stubborn side had been temporarily beat into submission.

Unfortunately for Jessica, that hadn't happened yet.

"THR..."

As the referee's hand came down to finish the match, Angel's body jerked, her shoulder rising off of the mat to break the pin. The referee looked shocked, but glanced at Jessica, shaking her head and whispering the words 'not yet' before quickly backing off.

Angel had kicked out. The match would continue.

Not yet. The words hung over her like a Sword of Damocles and served to show that Jessica was not all the way there yet. Not yet. Angel managed to kick out of the pin, despite all the pain she must have been in. The Violent Violet had heaped destruction upon her Latina opponent, but she had not done enough. Not yet. Jessica got up off of Angel and stormed towards the referee. That was a three count. Was this bitch blind? She hurled all the abuse she could muster towards the little ref girl, but her profanity was not enough to cow the umpire. Not yet.

She turned back. Jessica had dished out a ton of damage, but had taken her fair share too. Offense came naturally to her, and throwing herself forward was the only wrestling strategy she knew. Brawl for a bit to set up something more complex, then hit them with a devastating throw or submission. She had learned that when she was sixteen years old, practicing with her father. That didn't work here, and a feeling pretty similar to panic began to seep in. The superplex was exactly that, and Angel survived it. What could she do now?

She crouched into her wrestling stance and made herself ready. Whatever was coming, Jessica had to be ready for it. With her fatigue draining her and her guidebook thrown out the window, the Violent Violet was running out of options. But even with few options remaining, she still had to fight. "Get the fuck up, slut. I have a Queenmaker with your name on it."

Angel rolled onto her side, as Jessica stormed off to argue with the referee, the Latina lying there with half closed eyes watching the bigger, angrier woman. She was glad for the reprieve. After everything she had just taken, she was glad that Jessica was wasting time arguing with the referee. She could use the brief rest.

It was Angel's biggest trump card. She could take damage like no one's business and still keep going, and her opponents were almost always shocked by just how much of a beating she could take. Even Taylor had to knock the Latina the fuck out before she could claim her victory, and from the way things were going, Jessica might have needed to look into doing the same.

Angel lied there, unmoving, simply staring at Jessica, biding her time and soaking up every second of rest she could get. She stayed on the mat, waiting until Jessica turned back her way, ordering her to stand. She didn't want to get back up yet, but she knew she needed to. It was a risk though. No doubt that Jessica would be coming after her the moment she started to stand again.

She couldn't just lie there, though. She had to move. With a deep breath, she rolled over onto her front side, then began to push up to her hands and knees, slowly starting to force herself back up again.

Pathetic. That was the word that came to Jessica's mind. Angel was a former champion, and now she was here, on her hands and knees in front of her, with the whole world pulling for her. If this woman used to be the champion, then what did Jessica look like compared to her? The Violent Violet had won no accolades, taken no belts, headlined no PPVs. If this woman was pathetic, what did that make her?

Jessica shook her head. She couldn't let thoughts like that sway her course of action. Everything that she had prepared for, all her plans, were all meaningless and in the past. The only thing that mattered going forward was her capacity to dish out violence in bundles, and at the end of the day she always had that. The consternation that had overcome her moments ago spurred her into action, and she barreled forward.

Two steps into the assault she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Once she got to Angel...what? There was no throw she could hit the Latina with, and there were no submissions that came from a full run. The only thing that popped in her head was a massive kick. How ironic, Jessica thought, for Angel to be brought low by a massive kick. Those who lived by the sword died by the sword, and the kick Jessica aimed at Angel's head was quite the sword to swing.