CaptainBoyHole

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The two fighters didn’t hesitate to get closer to one another. Simon took the first move with a quick jab to test the range between them. He knew that he was far larger than his opponent. But for some reason, he didn’t feel like that was much of an advantage. Must be the nerves of performing in front of millions of people.

She blocked the jabs with her gloves as she locked eyes with him. Simon didn’t like that look in her eyes but didn’t let it unnerve him. He knew she was nothing more than a fake. Sure, she might have some training, but her undefeated streak was nothing more than a sham.

In what world can a girl defeat a sumo wrestler but later in the future struggle against a girl in the same weight class as her? Simon and anyone else who had some common sense knew that it didn’t make sense. The naysayers might say she was just holding back against the foreign girl, but Simon knew that was bullshit. She was a phony, and her fighting record was fake.

Using his larger size and the length of his arms to his advantage, Simon threw multiple fully extended punches. Still looking directly into his eyes, she blocked each of his punches with those stupid boxing gloves. It didn’t matter what area he was targeting on her body. She didn’t need to look at where he was throwing his punches. She seemed to have all the information she needed on how to defend just by looking at where he was aiming in his eyes.

At the same time, she was getting closer and closer to him. Punch after punch, it didn’t matter. She would deflect it, alter its angle, stop it before it could fully extend, or purposely punch his arm before he could pull it back. With every strike, Simon felt the jarring impact course through his arms and shoulders. Zoey's blows were like bolts of lightning, her gloves finding their mark with unerring accuracy. The sharp sting of her jabs, the dull throb of her hooks – each sensation served as proof that maybe she did have some skill in striking.

Simon, his mouthguard a foreign object in his jaws, tasted the saltiness of sweat as it trickled from his brow and into his mouth. It was a reminder of the grueling preparation, the hours spent in the gym, and the relentless pursuit of victory. “Do you think this is a game?! Quit messin’ around and fight!” Simon bellowed in frustration. 

As Simon threw a thunderous right hook, Zoey slipped beneath it with uncanny agility, her smaller form a blur of motion. She smiled as her head returned to its original position. Zoey tapped her cheek with her gloves right in front of Simon and the crowd. Begging him to land just one hit. Come on, it’s just right there. The crowd roared in amusement at the sight of this while the others booed at the poor sportsmanship.

Just as Simon was about to rush like a mad bull and gore her with nothing but his body and physical strength, the bell rang, and the referee stood in front of him, crossing his arms. Simon’s charge was stopped before it could begin as he returned to his corner. He met with his coach, who was looking at him, not looking too pleased. “Keep that temper under control, boy. This match is all over if you aren’t in control of yourself. She’s proven, she’s quick-footed like a rabbit. All you need to do is stay calm and play to your damn strengths. You ain't a damn boxer, are ya boy?” He advised.

“Right!” Simon responded as his gym buds helped him refresh for the second round.

It wasn’t until the second round was about to begin that Simon realized that the girl was still staring at him! Was she looking at him the entire time while they were on round break?! ‘Ain’t she a bizarre one…’ Simon shook his head. Ignoring the freaky girl as he signaled to the crowd. He was going to end the match here and now! They responded with loud cheers and words of encouragement.

The second round began in a different manner than the first. Simon dropped his guard as he slowly walked toward Zoey. He walked as if he were going on a leisurely stroll, not in the middle of a fight that was being seen by millions across the world. She looked at him with amusement in her eyes. Did she think this was funny? Oh, he’d show her funny in a second.

An air-shaking crack sounded throughout the arena as the world started to fall for some reason… Simon’s head smacked against the ring floor as everything sounded muted in his ears. He could hear his heart beating along with the dull roar of the audience. But that didn’t make sense. He hadn’t pulled out his new tactic yet. Why were they cheering?

“Five.” A white and black blur was counting something.

“Seven.” Simon realized what was going on.

“Nine.” Simon shot up to his feet in fighting position as he looked into the referee’s eyes.

“You’re good to continue, son?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Simon couldn’t feel his mouthpiece in his mouth anymore.

The second round began once again with the crowd chanting Zoey’s ring name. She smiled at him. “Maybe you should’ve stayed at the farm, cowboy.” 

“I’ll show you a cowboy!” Simon placed his guard up as he neared Zoey, on the lookout for any surprise attacks like before. “Not just anyone can dance with the devil.” She stoically mocked as he sent a flurry of enraged punches her way.

Shoulder block, parry, deflect, blocked, bob and weave, and dancing around him. As Simon seemingly lost himself in fury, throwing wild punches all around himself as Zoey spun him around the octagon multiple times over. He eventually let out a scream as he charged her. They both fell to the mat as Simon tackled Zoey. A sadistic smile filled with satisfaction appeared on his face as he raised his fist.

Just as he was about to bring his fist down, he could feel himself being tackled off of the girl. She was smiling at him. The sound of the ring’s buzzer finally registered in his ears, and the referee yelled at him to get to his corner. “I had her…” Simon balled his shaking fist. How did that round go by so fast? And why was he so tired…?

“All you have to do is get her again, boy. If you can get her once, you can do it again. And get that damn temper of yours under control!” Coach Mitchell slapped the back of his head.

Simon took a deep, deep breath. “Yes, sir.” As he focused ahead, he saw that the girl was staring at him again. But when they locked eyes, she waved at him before tapping her still-unblemished cheek. And all that calming was rendered moot in an instant. The final round started up, much to the excitement of the crowd.

In the heart of the ring, under the unforgiving spotlight, the tone of the battle shifted like tectonic plates. Zoey Winters, the adored fighter known for her striking prowess, made an unexpected move that left both the audience and Simon Birch in stunned silence. With a lightning-quick takedown, she had taken Simon to the canvas, and now, their fates were entangled in the world of ground combat.

The hushed anticipation that had settled over the venue was a stark contrast to the earlier cacophony of cheers and gasps. It was as if time itself had slowed, granting every spectator a front-row seat to the impending beatdown. Simon, a giant of a man who had bulldozed his way through countless opponents, found himself in a new position. Beneath Zoey, his waist heaved up and down with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. Her tiny frame, in comparison to his, had transformed into a dominant force, and the malevolent glint in her black eyes sent shivers down the spines of those watching. They were as black as the abyss, devoid of light or compassion, reflecting an evil that sent shivers down the spine.

The audience, a sea of wide-eyed faces, watched as Zoey mounted Simon with predatory grace. Her knees pressed into his sides, effectively pinning him in place. It was a position that sent shockwaves through the crowd, a revelation that Zoey Winters was taking on Simon on his turf! With her gloved hand raised high, The Devil wore a sick, sadistic smile that seemed to materialize from the depths of her dark origins. Her gloves, once symbols of competition and boxing, were now instruments of impending torture. The crowd, unable to look away from the upcoming violence, held its collective breath.

The air was thick with apprehension as The Devil was about to unleash a barrage of ruthless punches. However, Simon tried tossing her off of him with just the force of his waist. But Zoey wasn’t sitting on his abdomen, she was sitting on his chest! Even as he thrust his lower body in the air, it did nothing to rid the she-demon on top of him.

“Leave the fighting to real fighters, farm boy.” Vicious blows straight outta Hell rained down on top of Simon’s face. He desperately blocked with his forearms covering his head, but they did little to soften the blows. Each blow was a visceral, brutal impact, a percussion of brutality that resonated with bone-crunching intensity. The sound of her gloves meeting Simon's flesh reverberated through the venue, a grim reminder of the unforgiving nature of real fighting.

Simon, trapped beneath the onslaught, could feel every strike like a sledgehammer to his defenses. The taste of blood filled his mouth as his blood leaked under the relentless assault. It was a taste of defeat, a reminder to him that in the world of fighting, there were no guarantees of victory. Simon misjudged his opponent and was paying for it…

The crowd, once raucous and frenzied, watched in a state of shock. The atmosphere had shifted from one of excitement to one of grim fascination. Simon’s blood was staining all over the ring as he tried his utmost to escape her mount. Every time he wiggled out of her mount, she would wrestle him into a new position to continue pounding on his face. No matter how hard he tried to escape, there was only more endless torture waiting for him under the Ruler of Hell.

Simon, his vision blurred by blood, pain, and swelling of his face, could sense the weight of the moment. It was a defining instant in his career, a test of his resilience and willpower. With every ounce of his strength, he fought to weather the storm, to push back against the relentless tide of Zoey's ground and pound. But Zoey, her now-bloody sadistic smile undiminished, continued her assault with unwavering savagery. Her strikes were calculated and merciless, a relentless onslaught that left no room for survival. The crowd, unable to tear their eyes away from the gruesome spectacle, bore witness to the end of Mr. Ground-and-Pound’s undefeated legacy.

The canvas, now stained with blood and sweat, bore witness to the brutality of combat. As the seconds ticked away, Simon's world narrowed to the agonizing dance of Zoey's strikes. The taste of blood, the scent of sweat, the sound of impact – all merged into a buffet of suffering. It was a moment that would be etched into the annals of fighting history, a moment when The Devil revealed the depths of her cruelty.

Multiple staff members of the Fighting Tournament League had to aid the referee in pulling The Devil off of Simon—a slumped and twitching bloodied figure. Multiple adult men were holding her back as the referee tried his utmost to regain control over his ring. The crowd cheered and booed at the same volume. It was a mixture of emotions swimming through the audience after the stunning display.

Even after The Devil was disqualified for excessive force and not stopping when she was warned, she still had a smile on her face. This was a pretty good debut for officially entering the Fighting Tournament League. Zoey thought of this plan with Coach Scott days before the match began. This way, she could get a good number of fighters willing to challenge her, male or female. If she could defeat a popular and strong fighter like Simon Birch, no man would be willing to underestimate her in the FTL. 

The ‘loss’ didn’t really bother her because Zoey and everyone else watching knew that it wasn’t a real loss when her opponent looked like a corpse in the ring, and she was still raring to go. Not to mention, Zoey was rather happy that Simon was a normal human. It allowed her to handicap her inhuman strength to more of a normal woman’s strength. Making this fight much more fun than just overpowering him. A fight isn’t all that fun if there’s barely a challenge. Zoey defeated Simon with tools that any other man or woman fighter could use.

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