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Warehouse 17

Discussion in 'Fiction' started by Pitwar, Jun 5, 2012.

  1. Pitwar

    Pitwar Vivacious Visitor

    May 9, 2012
    Likes Received:

    Packing her duffel bag, Lalita bit her lower lip and looked back at her computer monitor. An open invite had gone out on the pitfighting message board she had been lurking on for well over 2 years, and the east-indian girl had decided to answer the call. Lalita was a longtime spectator who always dreamed of becoming a fighter, longing for the freedom and equality of the ring. As she secretly studied the science of combat, she often wished she could stand in the ring, facing her hardships with only her bare hands and feet.

    Dressing modestly to not draw attention to herself, Lalita headed to the subway to head to the venue. As she looked out the window, she chewed one of her fingers and imagined how she could either win or lose. She was an accounting student, drilled by her parents to keep her head low and voice quiet. Stepping into the ring would be the last thing anyone, herself included, would expect from her.

    "Lalita?" said a voice. "I never saw you as a late-night person. Got errands to run for your folks?"

    Lalita looked up, startled, to see a lithe and familiar-looking half-chinese girl seeming surprised to see her. "Fan? W-What are you doing here?"

    "I'm riding the train, Lali." Fan grinned, sitting down next to Lalita. "Same as you." Her thick vest rustled as she turned in her seat.

    "Yes...I..." Lalita chewed her lip as she glanced around. "I'm just on my way to pick up a prescription."

    "Oh. Bummer," said Fan.

    "What about you?" Lalita tried to quickly take her destination out of the conversation.

    "Me? I've got a...class," answered Fan, quickly looking up at the ceiling. "An evening class."

    "Oh." Lalita turned her head away to look back out the window.

    After a very long silence, Fan spoke up. "I had fun at the club last week. We should do that again sometime! Maybe get you a boyfriend."

    "Come on, Fan..." Lalita blushed as Fan gave her a nudge. "I don't like that atmosphere very much."

    "Want to know a secret?" Fan leaned close to whisper loudly. "I don't either. But it's the only way to get to know people, and if there's two of us we've got each other's back."

    As the train slowed down, Fan began to stand up. "Looks like..."

    "...my stop." Lalita turned and stopped, standing face to face with Fan.

    After a few moments, the two girls quickly exited the train and began walking in the same direction. They were silent for quite some time, until Fan finally spoke up.

    "...Warehouse 17?" she said.

    "...uh huh." Lalita quickly nodded.

    "Quiet girl like you?" Fan pushed her hands into the pockets of her vest. "That's a bit of a surprise."

    "You are, too," replied Lalita. "Social butterfly that you are."

    "Little Sunny," said Fan. "That's my name on the board."

    "...Silk Slammer," muttered Lalita. "I don't...post very much."


    Finding herself an empty corner in the locker room, Lalita changed her clothes as Fan pulled off her vest. "That was a cool idea, entering the tourney under our board names," said the chinese girl.

    "Being as anonymous as possible would probably be better for both of us," called back Lalita. "...On our first attempts. Besides, some of the others are doing it."

    "There must be other boardies here," answered Fan. She stopped, looking over at Lalita as she emerged from her corner. "You look pretty natural!"

    The east-indian girl's hair formed a long, dark ponytail. She wore a two-piece turqoise sports-top and briefs, with a short silken sari wrapped around her waist like a sash. "...I have this for when I am waiting for my match, too." She pulled another silk sari cloth over her shoulders, letting it hang over her upper body.

    Fan nodded, her hair done up in spunky pigtails. A yellow sleeveless belly t-shirt clung over her chest, and pink shorts finished her outfit. "All I got is some junky stuff I don't mind sweating in."

    The two girls headed out into Warehouse 17's waiting area: a fenced pen next to the ring. A canvas square surrounded by wooden barriers was the combat area. Above the ring, large namecards were hanging from hooks. One read "HOLLY BROCKLER", while the other read "SPIKERDRIVER".

    "Hey, that's one of the boardies!" said Fan. "Looks like he's got some local for warm-up."

    The exhibition match was nearing its end. Holly, a hawaiian girl in a red top and matching boyshorts, flopped to a rest on her back after a heavy blow to her chin.

    "Are you from the boards too? That's amazing!" A small, perky irish girl began speaking to Fan at a rapid pace. "I'm from the boards too, I got by Clover Maeve there."

    Spikerdriver, much in the spirit of his silver tights and luchadore mask, executed a textbook vertical suplex on Holly's unresisting body.

    "Spikerdriver's a real natural, this is his first time too," continued Maeve. "I've done this before, myself, so did that Holly girl, shame she took that nasty slam early on, I think it hurt her back and put her out of the fight before she could get started."

    "And...how...did you do...?" asked Fan, a little bewildered by the fast-talking irish girl.

    "Oh I think I lost, I don't really remember, I took quite a blow to the noggin!" Maeve giggled a little.

    Lifting Holly's limp form off the ground, Spikerdriver heaved with audible effort as he bodyslammed her unconscious body. The rookie wrestler stepped back, catching his breath and then whooping loudly in celebration.

    An announcer's voice came over the ring. "Holly Brockler has been defeated in the ring of combat. Spikerdriver, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Glancing around, a little unsure of what to do, Spikerdriver stood over Holly's unconscious form. After pacing around her body, he leapt into the air and delivered a heavy elbow drop straight into her chest. The hawaiian girl shuddered once, spit spraying from her mouth with the impact.

    Holly was quickly removed from the ring. Spikerdriver went back into the waiting pen as the crowd cheered.


    "This is a special message board invitational?" asked Lalita.

    "Yeah," answered Spikerdriver. "The organizers said we were just waiting for the extra fighters to clear out. I got lucky and had a warm-up match with the last one."

    "I was told it's a sort of...league try-out event," said a younger guy in a blue judo gi. "When I told them I'm Chokehead on the boards, they gave me some spiel about getting to learn from local talent."

    "The local talent wasn't much trouble for me," said Spikerdriver, chuckling.

    "You're new at this?" Fan gave him a discerning look. "Because I am too."

    "Heh, then get ready for some fun," replied Spikerdriver. "That wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it'd be. Guess I'm a natural. Or I got lucky."

    "I've fought before, it's really a blast, even if it hurts a lot," said Maeve, rapidly. "There must be at least 9 or 10 of us here, that's so lovely! I wonder if everybody but me is a rookie? That means the advantage is mine! Hee hee!"

    Fan tried to ignore the increasingly annoying little irish girl. "Looks like they're getting ready to start. There's a big stack of namecards over there." She glanced over to Lalita. "Feeling ready?"

    "S-sort of," replied Lalita. "Are you nervous?"

    "Completely," said Fan. "Some of these boardies look as tough as nails."

    "First names are going up," said Spikerdriver, jumping in place to stay warm.


    Two namecards were hung on the hooks. "LITTLE SUNNY" and "NICASIO". A toned greek guy in blue briefs stepped into the ring, raising his hands to the audience as the match was announced.

    "Next match! Nicasio, versus Little Sunny!"

    Looking on in disbelief, Fan slowly turned to Lalita. "Looks like I'm first in line...wish me luck, Lali?" She gave her friend a bit of a longing look. Lalita nodded to her, taking one of her hands and squeezing it tight before Fan turned and headed into the ring. She looked up with a weak smile as the audience cheered her entrance, clasping her hands together and bowing at two sections of onlookers before turning to face her opponent. Nicasion offered a hand, smiling. Cautiously, Fan shook it, relieved when the decision did not end with the match beginning prematurely. She backed away as the bell sounded.

    Her hands raised in a loose posture, Fan approached Nicasio too quickly and found herself grappling with the greek fighter. She looked outmatched rather fast, but as Nicasio leaned in to get a better grip on her, she fell backwards and pulled on his body. Using her opponent's momentum, Fan took him to the ground. She sat on his back and delivered two chops to his neck, stunning the greek fighter and giving her time to try to apply a choke hold. Nicasio struggled, and soon forced his opponent's arms off of his throat. Not giving up her advantage, Fan scuttled forward and wrapped her legs around his neck. However, Nicasio continued to stand, lifting the chinese girl that attached herself to his body.

    "Let go, Fan!" shouted Lalita. "You're not in control!"

    Hearing her friend, Fan did not see any reason to release her leglock chokehold. At least, she did not see one until Nicasio grabbed hold of her body and pulled it closer to his. She squeezed her legs as tightly as she could, but the greek fighter did not falter as he held his opponent firmly upside-down with her legs desperately wrapped around his head. Suddenly, he drove her down into the mat. Fan's head exploded with pain as her leglock flew open. She clutched her skull, rolling over several times to try and buy time to recover. Fan was surprised to see Nicasio waving to her, motioning for her to stand before he continued the match.

    After trying to keep a distance from her opponent, Fan lost her patience and threw a deep middle kick. Nicasio took the kick in order to grapple with the chinese girl, immediately causing her to worry. Fan could tell that he was more experienced that up-close, so she could only try to react to his actions. The greek fighter bent down, grabbing Fan around her waist tightly. She rapidly lifted knee strikes and dropped elbows, bruising her opponent but not shaking him loose. Nicasio planted his feet and lifted her onto his shoulders, holding her body tightly in a fireman's carry. Fan could barely struggle, only able to kick her feet and pull at his hands. Nicasio turned several times, disorienting his opponent long enough for him to execute his next maneuver. He pushed his arms up, lifting Fan much higher overhead before yanking her down. Fan was able to squeak in surprise before she was slammed belly-first onto her opponent's knee. The chinese girl made a low-pitched noise as she rolled to the mat, curled up in the fetal position. She gasped for air, unable to move.

    After waiting a few moments, Nicasio forced Fan back onto her feet. She could only clutch her belly, unable to fight back as the greek fighter applied a front facelock. He kicked his legs up, driving her head into the floor as he fell. Wrapping his legs around her body, Nicasio squeezed the wind from her body with his thighs as he bent her neck harshly. Fan tried her best to get free, soon slapping her bare feet against the mat as she thrashed. Nicasio released his bodyscissors, still holding her head as he slowly got to his feet. Pulling one of Fan's arms over his head, Nicasio then lifted and held her prone, upside-down and about to receive a vertical suplex. The greek fighter held her tightly upright, taking careful steps towards the edge of the ring. Fan's legs wavered in the air, her face scrunched up in fearful anticipation.

    "She's had enough," lamented Lalita. "She's had enough."

    "That reminds me of my first match, it was a rough debut but I think I'm better for it," rambled Maeve. "She'll be better for it too!"

    Nicasio slammed Fan down in front of him. She bent in half as she landed on top of one of the wooden barriers, stomach-first. The chinese girl gagged hard enough to dry-heave, spasming as she lay draped over the ring wall. Her opponent let her lay there for a few seconds as he played to the crowd, who cheered him on. Nicasio grabbed hold of Fan by her waist, lifting her off the barrier only to throw her headfirst onto the mat. She lay sprawled on her face, breathing rapidly and glowing with sweat under the arena lights.

    Fan protested loudly as Nicasio pulled her up onto her feet. "No...NO!...leave me on the floor...leave me on-DAWWWWWWWW!!" A hard kick to the gut left her doubled over, eyes and mouth wide until a short uppercut lifted into her chin. "UHN!" Fan lay on her back, head lolling left and right weakly. Her opponent picked up one of her bare feet, dragging her towards the hanging namecards. Halfway there, he paused to step over her leg and apply a harsh twist to her ankle, causing her body to spasm once in pain. Once he reached the namecards, Nicasio pulled the chinese girl up onto her feet, holding her upright by the back of her throat. She could barely stand, arms hanging limp as her lower lip pouted forward loosely. Her half-open glossy gaze stared out at the waiting pen, unable to focus. Nicasio pointed at "LITTLE SUNNY" namecard, looking up at the crowd.

    "Little Sunny has been defeated in the ring of combat," said the announcer. "Nicasio, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Lalita looked on in fear as Nicasio pressed Fan overhead and dropped her onto the mat. The chinese girl coughed wetly, barely able to writhe. Nicasio hooked one of her legs with one arm and cradled her neck with the other, lifting her off the mat and holding her horizontally in front of his chest. Fan reached out desperately for help, grasping at thin air. Nicasio began squeezing his arms together, bending his opponent sideways at the waist and pushing her head and left leg closer together. Fan's body shuddered as the pressure increased, her cries of pain growing louder and more frightening. A prolonged shriek ended in an inhuman squeak as she suddenly folded unnaturally sideways with an audible crack, her left knee resting against her cheek. Fan's face was frozen in a cry of silent pain, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth wide open. Her limbs hung limp for several seconds until Nicasio released her. Fan lay facedown on the mat, completely motionless. Nicasio took her name card and tore it in half, letting it flutter over her body as he left the ring.

    "FAN!!" cried Lalita, watching her friend get dragged unceremoniously off the mat. "GET UP, FAN!! Get up..."

    "That was rough, but I've seen people get it worse," muttered Maeve to herself out loud. "Just means it's a tough tournament, that's okay, I've been in one before, I'm just as tough!"


    "Next match! Clover Maeve, versus Lady Kraken!"

    Maeve skipped into the ring, the little irish girl's long brunette hair hanging in her eyes. She removed her long green skirt, dropping it on the edge of the mat. Maeve wore a clover-motif leotard that left her limbs and back bare.

    Her opponent was a large and wide girl, whose one-piece tights left little to the imagination. Her black hair hung in long curls, matching the tendril-patterned facepaint over her eyes.

    Maeve ran towards Lady Kraken at the bell, trying to take the sizable girl to the mat and failing quickly. Lady Kraken shoved Maeve away, causing the irish fighter to tumble head over heels. She ran into Lady Kraken again, grabbing hold of one of her legs and trying to pull it off-balance. Lady Kraken clapped her hand over the back of Maeve's neck, forcing the little irish girl to look up at her before shoving her face-first onto the floor. Maeve began to get up, but her opponent grabbed hold of her and yanked her off the canvas. The irish girl flailed in mid-air before she was pancaked down onto the mat, laying on her stomach and gasping for breath.

    Grabbing handfuls of hair, Lady Kraken pulled her opponent onto her feet and forced her to follow her a few steps to the right. Maeve struggled valiantly as she was slowly bent over. A hard headbutt to her spine sent the irish girl back to the ground, at least until she was pulled upright once again by her hair. Lady Kraken applied a harsh bearhug, lifting Maeve off her feet before crushing her back until she screamed and then hurling her across the ring.

    Maeve painfully tried to crawl away as she heard her opponent coming closer. A hand clasped around her ankle and dragged her frantically-struggling body back to the center of the ring. Lady Kraken scooped her off the canvas, lifting her high overhead. She let the little irish girl cry out in fear, kicking and beating at the arms that held her captive. Then, she slammed Maeve stomach-first onto the mat. The irish girl clutched at her belly, a little bit of blood on her lips as she gagged.

    Lady Kraken took her time setting up Maeve for a harsh belly-to-belly suplex, spiralling the girl down onto the mat with her weight and momentum. Maeve bounced and flopped, clearly unable to continue the match. Her opponent forced her off the ground once again to apply another bearhug. Maeve shook her head, howling until she coughed up a little bit more blood while her opponent squeezed the life out of her. Throwing the irish fighter towards the namecard hooks, Lady Kraken approached the prone girl and then lifted her off the mat. She held Maeve high overhead like a broken doll, the irish girl's limbs dangling as she gasped for breath and stared up at the lights.

    "Clover Maeve has been defeated in the ring of combat." Maeve began whimpering rapidly as she heard the announcer declare her loss. "Lady Kraken, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    "NOOOOO!!" screamed Maeve, shaking her head and trying to rock herself free from Lady Kraken's grasp. Her opponent held her tightly, then slammed her onto the mat. Maeve lay spreadeaged on her back, only able to writhe as she tried to move. Lady Kraken stepped over her body, standing over her head. Then, she sat down. Maeve's body spasmed hard, flopping to a rest and no longer resisting. Lady Kraken stood, and flipped her opponent over onto her stomach. She sat down harshly once again, crushing Maeve's back and forcing a hoarse cry from the irish girl as she flopped like a fish once again. Leaning down, Lady Kraken pulled back one of Maeve's arms and applied a chickenwing chokehold. Then, she leaned back. Maeve's bare feet kicked rapidly against the mat as her back arched painfully. She pulled at the arm around her throat, tongue protruding as she screamed, "NO NO NO NOHHHWGH UUUUUUGHH, UUUAAAAAAGH!!...AGH...AGH...WAUGH!!!" Maeve's final screech came as her back snapped loudly, bending unnaturally as Lady Kraken leaned far back. The irish girl's feet twitched, and part of her spine clearly protruded against the inside of her chest. Her free hand tightened into a claw, shivering in mid-air as her wide eyes bugged out. Lady Kraken released her other arm, reaching up to take hold of her head. With a wet crack, she twisted Maeve's head hard to the side and snapped her neck.

    Lady Kraken slowly stood, leaving Maeve facedown on the mat as she walked to the edge of the ring. She returned carrying Maeve's long green skirt, and kicked the irish girl over onto her back. Maeve stared up at the ceiling, eyes and mouth frozen wide as her tongue hung over her lip. Lady Kraken tossed the skirt over Maeve's face, leaving the irish girl spreadeagled under a makeshift veil as she left the ring.


    Those still remaining in the waiting pen found themselves locked inside after one tried to leave, and were only able to exit via the ring. Chokehead tried to leave before another match was called, but warning gunshots ricocheting off the fence drove him and the others back.

    "We're trapped?" Lalita chewed her finger. "But I can't...I can't..."

    "Next match! Chokehead, versus Steel!"

    "I live for this..." Spikerdriver hopped in place, staying psyched up.

    "They never said," Lalita ran her hand through her hair. "They never said it'd be like this!"

    "Fight to survive, Silk Slammer." Spikerdriver tapped his luchadore mask. "You might want to walk in there as a piece of meat, but I'm gonna be a warrior."

    "Is that what it means to be a fighter?" Lalita stared on as Chokehead's face was beaten to a pulp in the ring. "That's what I always wanted?"

    "It looks like a lesson we all would have to learn sometime," replied Spikerdriver, watching Chokehead being dragged off the canvas. "Fighting can be glorious or humiliating. Sometimes the stakes are low, but sometimes they're as high as it gets."

    "Next match! Spikerdriver, versus Samson!"

    "See you on the other side, Silk Slammer." Spikerdriver headed into the ring, as Lalita looked down at herself for a few moments.


    Spikerdriver had won his match decisively, and was led out of the ring to an unknown location. Lalita played with her silken sash, panic giving way to a strange resignation.

    "Next match! Iron Maki, versus Silk Slammer!"

    Lalita shivered, taking her time before finally stepping onto the mat. She let her larger sari fall from her shoulders and onto the floor, before heading to the center of the ring. Iron Maki was a japanese girl in a metal-studded swimsuit, pads strapped over her limbs. She raised her hands forward, inviting Lalita to approach.

    The two fighters collided, wrestling for control. Lalita slid her arms down to Maki's waist, trying to pull her to the mat. Maki stood her ground, hugging Lalita tightly before snapping a sudden headbutt into her forehead. The east indian girl's eyes stared into space as her head jerked back. Maki gripped Lalita by her shoulders, pulling her down as she repeatedly lifted her knee into her gut. Lalita attempted to defend herself, but the continued belly blows left her jiggling on her feet until her opponent let her fall to the mat. She curled up tightly, gasping as she clutched her stomach.

    Maki took hold of Lalita by her hair, forcing her to stand up. The east-indian girl threw Maki's arms off of her with a shout, grabbing her and pushing her into one of the wooden barriers. She held the japanese girl against the fence, trying to catch her breath while holding her opponent prone. Then, she turned and threw Maki over her hip with a judo-style takedown. Maki slammed against the mat, groaning as she turned over onto her stomach and began to get up. Lalita dove forward to capitalize, putting Maki into a front facelock. The japanese girl planted her feet, then heaved and ran forward. Lalita cried out as her back was smashed into the wooden barrier, bending over the top of the fence. Two more hard shoulderbutts to her stomach left the east indian girl doubled over. Maki took hold of her head, yanking it up and then slamming it down into the top of the fence. Lalita's skull shuddered as it bounced off the hard edge. She staggered back, spinning around as she stumbled in circles. Turning to face Maki, Lalita's face collided with the japanese girl's thrusting sole. A hard yakuza kick flipped the east indian girl head over heels.

    Spitting out some blood, Lalita shivered as she stared down at the splatter on the mat. "Mmuh...toofth...AHHHHHNNNN!!" Her mouth hung wide open as Maki's elbow drop sank into one of her kidneys. She began to reach for her aching flank, but flopped like a fish as the japanese girl executed a full body splash. Her studded swimsuit added an extra level of pain, and Lalita could barely focus as she felt her opponent trap both of her arms and lay on top of her back. Maki pinned Lalita down, and then began rhythmically headbutting the back of her skull. The east indian girl kicked her bare feet against the mat with each impact, growing more limp with every thud. Once she felt her opponent no longer resisting as hard as she had at the beginning of the beating, Maki relented and pulled the girl to her feet.

    "G-guh...uhn!...nn-nuh...nuh!" Lalita was almost comically punchdrunk as she tried to outwrestle her opponent, only able to get herself facelocked with one leg held tightly off the floor. Maki lifted her into the air, holding her prone and about to receive a fisherman buster. Lalita's free leg kicked forward and backward, trying in vain to get free. "Can't...can't take another..." thought Lalita. "Can't fight any more..." Her body folded and flopped as she was dropped headfirst into the floor.

    Lalita was a dead weight as Maki hauled her off the mat, springing to life for a moment to gag when Maki chopped her across the throat. She fell to her knees, staring forward glassily.

    "Silk Slammer has been defeated in the ring of combat. Iron Maki, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Though she felt resigned to her fate as she heard her name declared as the loser of the match, Lalita's eyes welled slightly with moisture as Iron Maki held her upright. She looked up into the japanese girl's face, barely conscious and filled with woe. Maki held her prone for a few moments, then stepped behind her. Arms wrapped around Lalita's head and neck, one hand firmly placed against the side of her skull. "Nn...no...no..." she stammered, pulling weakly at her opponent's arms as they tightened. "Nnuuh! Nuh!! UHHHN!!" Lalita writhed and thrashed as Maki began throttling her, also cutting off the blood flow to her brain. "NNUHHH!!! NUH!! UH!! Uh!!...uh..." Lalita's face went slack as she began to foam at the mouth, the world going dark around her. As she lost consciousness, she only thought one thing. "I'm coming...Fan..."


    New Reply:
    User: Spikerdriver

    Message Body: tourney was the bomb!! kicked some ass and had some laughs. better see more of you at the next one!!

    New Reply:
    User: FloralFight17

    Message Body: sounds like fun lol I'll be there!1


    Lalita was startled to awaken, looking up at harsh lights. She winced as she turned her head, seeing Holly Brockler as the hawaiian girl groaned and shuffled out of the recovery room. It took a few moments for Lalita to realize that she had a sheet draped over her body. Sliding out from under it, her feet felt a little numb against the cold tiled floor. She looked around, seeing one or two unconscious fighters, and several more covered by sheets.

    A lump raised in her throat as she pulled one aside and saw Fan. The chinese girl's face was still locked in its silent cry of pain, her body deathly still. Lip quivering, Lalita ran a hand over Fan's cheek before replacing the sheet. She found Chokehead and Clover Maeve in similar states. "They must have thought I was...that Iron Maki had..." Lalita turned quickly as she heard someone approaching. Panicked, she spotted a fire exit and fled the recovery room.

    She had stumbled through the dark for over an hour, barefoot and wearing only her fighting attire, before finding a familiar streetlight. Lalita had no idea what to do, staring up at the light until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Another hand clasped over her mouth before she could scream. She turned her head, seeing a masked girl in a hoodie craning her head to look Lalita in the eyes. The urban ninja spoke quietly. "I'm here to help."
    Sickerton and Kargan3033 like this.
  2. Raden

    Raden Ryonani Teamster

    Sep 24, 2011
    Likes Received:
    I definitely wanna see more of this. Awesome story so far. Find myself kind of hoping her friends aren't really dead, but it isn't looking too good for them I guess.
  3. Pitwar

    Pitwar Vivacious Visitor

    May 9, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Thank you ^^

    There is a part 2 on the way! I should write part 3, LOL
  4. Pitwar

    Pitwar Vivacious Visitor

    May 9, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Warehouse 17 Pt.2 - Heroic Shadow


    Three hard blows to Valerie's neck left the ponytailed girl stunned and defenseless. A hard palmstrike to the chin sent her flying through the air. Her opponent leapt after her, landing on top of her body and pinning her to the canvas of Warehouse 17's arena. The masked girl looked down at her winded foe as a voice called out, "Valerie Kensington has been defeated in the ring of combat. Urban Ninja, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    A single chop to her skull put Valerie out cold. The Urban Ninja stood slowly, a masked fighter dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. Tight tape wrappings covered her forearms, shins and midriff. She turned and left, returning to the cage in which the evening's fighters waited for their matches.

    As the next fight took place, the ninja silently paced behind most of the other combatants. Her hair spilled slightly from the lowered hood of her top, its unkempt stylings matching the strange and cobbled look of her outfit. She eyed all of the fighters, but her gaze kept returning to a select few. She glanced up as the victor of the match returned to the cage: A native american wrestler called Kimimela.

    "If they're all as easy as him, this will be a snap," said Kimimela. Her hair was braided, held together with leather tassles that also adorned her wrists. She wore a brown singlet and matching loincloth. "Did you need that match to last any longer?"

    The Urban Ninja shook her head. "I have a few ID's in this crowd. Going to...step away for a bit. This place may be connected."

    Kimimela looked over her shoulder. "Now's a good time. Another match is starting up. Are either of them an ID?" She turned back to see that the ninja had already disappeared. "I guess not," she sighed.


    A pair of namecards reading "PIXIE" and "ROCKET RITA" were hung on the hooks above the ring. "Next match! Rocket Rita, versus Pixie!"

    Rita's red kickboxing attire shimmered, freshly cleaned of the bloodstains it had acquired during its previous usage. The star thai fighter's short-cropped black hair hung over her unimpressed expression as she watched her bouncing opponent. Pixie's wild pink hair matched the purple of her attire, a form-fitting singlet with a shredded skirt sewn to its waist.

    Several of Pixie's opening attacks were met with textbook defense from Rita, who kept her guard up and took the blows on her forearms and shins. Pixie hopped and switched stances, landing a punch to Rita's gut and then throwing an acrobatic jump kick. Rita dodged out of the way of the kick, turning slowly as Pixie landed and span to face her.

    The pink-haired fighter's head snapped sideways as Rita's kick slammed against it, quickly followed by a deep knee to the chest. Pixie covered her torso instinctively, leaving herself open to Rita's vicious overhead elbows. After three blows to the head, Pixie turned and tried to roll away. She scrambled to get to her feet, only to take a high kick across the face.

    Rita took hold of her opponent by her hair, pulling her up off the mat and yanking her to the side. Pixie struggled as she suffered multiple knee strikes to her belly and kidneys, her arms falling slack after one strike forced a loud gag from her throat. Rita smiled, taking a half-step back before delivering a hard roundhouse kick that flipped Pixie over where she stood. The pink-haired fighter crashed to the mat, laying on her back as her head lolled left and right.

    Looking down at the beaten girl, Rita paced around her body as she continued to lie on the canvas. After a few moments, a voice announced, "Pixie has been defeated in the ring of combat. Rocket Rita, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Pixie could only swat her hands punch-drunkenly as she was pulled to her knees. Rita held her head tightly by her scalp, and then began to brutally slam her knees against Pixie's skull. Once the pink-haired fighter was left a bloody and gurgling mess, Rita threw one leg up into the air and waited. Pixie began to fall forward, moaning softly. Rita's heel slammed down across her forehead with a crack. Then, the kickboxer simultaneously lifted a knee into Pixie's chin while driving an elbow down onto her head. The pink-haired fighter's body shuddered as her eyes briefly widened before she crumpled. Rita pressed a foot down onto Pixie's cheek as she lay unconscious, her breathing laboured and pained.


    The Urban Ninja's bare soles sped silently over the tiles of Warehouse 17's backstage corridors. She stopped, watching from the shadows as Kimimela's unconsicous opponent was dragged by. She peered her head around the corner after the attendents passed, and quickly followed them.


    "Next match! Lindsey Colt, versus Andrew McGregor!"

    With a wide-eyed expression, Lindsey raised both hands to the crowd. The curly-haired redhead was clad in a red and blue sports bra and spandex briefs. Across the mat, the kilt-wearing McGregor's broad chest and arms glistened with oil as he finished warming up.

    Their bodies colliding with a loud clap, Lindsey and McGregor locked up as soon as the match began. The scottish fighter quickly grabbed his opponent about her waist, lifting her a few inches off the mat before heaving her up and over his shoulder. Lindsey hit the floor hard, tumbling unevenly as she tried to roll with the fall. The redhead locked up with McGregor again, finding it difficult to get a solid grip on his oiled torso. She was quickly thrown down once again with a belly-to-belly suplex.

    As McGregor tried to pull her off the ground, Lindsey wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them around his kilt. Finally having found a solid grasping point, the redhead fighter twisted her hips and pulled her opponent down as he stooped to pick her up. Maintaining her leglock and positioning herself on McGregor's back, Lindsey tried to lock in a chokehold. Grunting with effort, her plan was once again thwarted by a lack of friction as McGregor was able to wriggle free of any neck locks. Her legs slipped up and around his greased abdomen as he tried to escape, and McGregor was able to spin around onto his back and face Lindsey head-on as she now sat on his chest. A sudden headbutt snapped her head back, letting her opponent push her aside and get up.

    Still groggy as she stumbled to her feet, Lindsey made a frustrated noise as McGregor grappled with her once again. Much of her own body had become slick from McGregor's oil, leaving her without any solid tactics to fall back on. The scottish fighter knew where and when to apply pressure, easily hefting Lindsey into the air. He ran forward a few steps before tossing her high into the air like a caber. Lindsey shrieked as she soared several feet and fell headfirst onto the mat, sprawling on her stomach in a daze.

    Taking all of her effort just to stay standing without slipping and losing balance, Lindsey could not put up a fight as McGregor squeezed her in a standing bearhug. Just as her mouth began to hang open and gasp for breath, McGregor heaved her high overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex. Lindsey lay on her back, panting and shining under the arena lights for some time before a voice declared, "Lindsey Colt has been defeated in the ring of combat. Andrew McGregor, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Lindsey soon found herself pulled back to her feet, standing knock-kneed as she continued breathing heavily with a tired and surrendered look on her face. McGregor applied another bearhug, locking the hold tightly before lifting his opponent up into the air. Lindsey held her arms out wide, writhing to try and continue breathing as the scottish fighter crushed the wind from her body. Her legs thrashed as she was swung left and right, moaning hoarsely. Lindsey stared up at the ceiling, gurgling as foamy drool filled her mouth and ran down her chin. Her body shuddered a few times as she passed out, arms and legs limply swinging as McGregor squeezed her into submission. After he released her, Lindsey slumped to her knees and quickly toppled over onto her face. She left a greasy stain on the mat where she lay, after she was dragged out of the ring.


    Watching McGregor leave the arena altogether, Kimimela realized that a number of the victors of previous matches had begun to exit the caged waiting area. She stopped Rocket Rita, reaching for her shoulder and asking, "Where are you going?"

    "Don't touch me," snarled Rita, turning quickly to face Kimimela. "Haven't you kept track of the time? The Warehouse is going to close up after the rest of these losers have had their matches. None of us are getting another fight."

    Kimimela glanced at the clock that hung on a nearby wall. "Of course...thanks." Rita did not reply as she took her leave. Kimimela glanced back at the waiting fighters. "Ninja said something was going on after-hours here," she thought. "I'd better stick around...and be ready."


    "Next match! Margo Edison, versus Monkey Rouge!"

    A large girl in orange tights with a yellow loincloth, Margo's long brown hair hung over her stocky and attractive face. Cartwheeling onto the mat, Monkey Rouge was a small girl with short red hair, wearing a ragged brown top and shorts.

    Scuttling forward on all fours, Monkey Rouge began circling around Margo as the larger girl span to try and stay face-to-face. Margo could barely keep up, taking several shots to her body as her opponent threw whirling chops and kicks. Monkey Rouge leapt onto Margo's back, pounding the girl's head with her fists before stepping onto her shoulders and kicking her across the face. Margo cried out, falling to her knees and clutching her jaw. Monkey Rouge ran up to her, raining punches down onto her opponent. With a desperate cry, Margo stood and grabbed hold of Monkey Rouge, suffering more blows to her face and chest as she lifted her opponent off the mat by the throat and slammed her.

    Rolling across the ground, Monkey Rouge shook her head and rapidly crawled around Margo. As the smaller girl leapt towards her, Margo planted her feet and raised her hands. Barely managing to catch Monkey Rouge, Margo quickly turned and slammed her once again. Pinning her opponent on the mat, Margo grabbed hold of the smaller girl's head and began pounding on her. Monkey Rouge squirmed and struggled to get free as she was beaten about her skull. Clawing at Margo's face, Monkey Rouge forced the larger girl to turn her face away. Then, Monkey Rouge chopped Margo's throat twice, making her choke and fall to the side.

    Diving onto Margo's back as she gagged and gasped, Monkey Rouge once again began battering her opponent's head. Margo whimpered, crawling on her hands and knees. She shakily began to stand up, vision blurring as her opponent relentlessly attacked her. With a sudden roar, Margo stood and reached up, grabbing hold of Monkey Rouge and throwing her over her shoulder. Before the smaller girl could recover, Margo stomped a foot down into her opponent's gut, grinding her heel as Monkey Rouge's body curled up and around her leg with a pained howl. Monkey Rouge rolled over several times in a fetal position, eventually trying to get back to her feet. Margo's face reddened with adrenaline as she took hold of Monkey Rouge's head and lifted her off the mat, shaking the girl rapidly like a ragdoll.

    Margo hopped up, still holding onto Monkey Rouge before slamming her onto the mat and landing on top of her. Margo pressed her body down, crushing her opponent beneath her. Monkey Rouge's limbs were all that was visible as she flailed wildly. Her legs tried to scissor around Margo as she slapped the larger girl's shoulders and sides. Soon her struggles slowed down, her body stiffening briefly before falling limp. After feeling her opponent fall still, Margo raised her body off of her and sat on top of her waist. Monkey Rouge's chest moved rapidly as she gasped for air, otherwise completely unconscious.

    "Monkey Rouge has been defeated in the ring of combat. Margo Edison, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!" Face still red and eyes still enraged, Margo took a few moments to catch her breath. Then, she stood and loomed over Monkey Rouge. With a roar, she fully bodysplashed the smaller girl, stomach-to-stomach. Monkey Rouge's eyes bugged open as a long moan was forced from her lungs, her entire body spasming once before falling still.

    Still seated on top of the gasping girl, Margo raised her fists and shouted in victory. She quickly grew exhausted as the adrenaline subsided, staggering out of the ring as her opponent lay defeated behind her.


    After a long break, the caged waiting area had filled with many new faces who joined the scant few fighters that remained. Kimimela stayed near the back, eyeing the arrivals until the next fight was finally called.

    "Next match! Floral Fight 17, versus Tora Sky!"

    A youthful fighter entered the ring, clearly excited to be under the arena lights. She wore a simple floral leotard, her hair held in a long ponytail. She looked, wide-eyed and brightly, at her opponent as she stepped onto the mat. Tora Sky was an amazonian girl dressed in pelts, with metal bracelets and anklets. She took a moment to flex an arm at her opponent, smiling as the floral girl's peppy expression faltered.

    Inching forward, the floral girl made the first move as she delivered a high kick. Tora Sky blocked it, standing her ground and waiting. Her opponent tried another high kick, jumping forward with a knee after her first attack was deflected. The young fighter landed two more knee strikes, then span and slammed her foot against the side of Tora Sky's face. The amazon girl flew back from the hit, falling down for a moment before propping herself into a seated position on her elbows. She rubbed her cheek, glaring at her opponent before smirking.

    The floral girl smiled nervously as Tora got back up, circling around her before throwing another kick. Tora caught her leg, quickly dropping a hard elbow down onto her knee. The floral girl pulled back, hopping slightly before attempting another kick. Tora caught her leg once again, letting her stand on one foot for a few moments before slamming two hard elbow drops right into the young fighter's kneecap. The floral girl cried out, falling to the canvas and clutching her knee. Tora Sky pulled her up to her feet, forcing the girl to walk a few steps on her injured leg before scooping her up and slamming her hard on her back.

    Crawling to her hands and knees, the floral girl cried out as Tora Sky slammed her fists down onto her back. Three more times, Tora let her opponent begin to get off the mat before harshly beating her back down onto it. Picking the young fighter up herself, Tora lifted her up under one arm before delivering a hard backbreaker. The floral girl screamed as a new level of pain shot through her spine, before an elbow to her face cut off her protests.

    Tora Sky forced her opponent back onto her feet, then split her lip with a hard chop to her jaw. The floral girl fell to her knees, staring forward as she tried to come to her senses. Tora Sky slowly stepped around her, standing behind the girl before applying a double chickenwing hold. Then, she hoisted the young fighter up into the air while maintaining the hold, leaving her hanging over the mat as her shoulderblades ground together. The floral girl shook her head rapidly, looking up at the crowd with wide and pleading eyes as her opponent walked around the ring and displayed her to the audience. There was a loud crack from the floral girl's shoulderblades as Tora suddenly increased the pressure of the hold, forcing an aguished scream from the young fighter before she was slammed facefirst onto the mat.

    As the floral girl lay convulsing on her stomach, Tora stood over her and flexed her arms at the crowd. "Floral Fight 17 has been defeated in the ring of combat. Tora Sky, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Taking her time, Tora Sky slowly took hold of one of the floral girl's arms, followed by one of her legs. Pushing a knee into the side of her body, Tora locked her into a bow and arrow hold. She leaned back, stretching the young fighter as the girl realized her back felt as though it was on fire. The floral girl slapped the mat over and over with her free hand, her untrapped leg kicking wildly as she continued to bend. Tora Sky craned her head down to look the girl in the eye as the young fighter begged desperately for mercy. Her pleas erupted into a final prolonged shriek as Tora wrenched the hold with a loud snap. Tora held the girl bent in the hold as her struggles suddenly ceased, waiting a while before letting her flop belly-down onto the canvas. The floral girl's torso shuddered as she made a few small gasping noises, an anguished look on her face as Tora lifted her head off the floor by her ponytail. The amazon fighter began throwing chops down onto her opponent's skull, not stopping until the floral girl was completely motionless. Once again flexing for the crowd, Tora Sky stood over her opponent's body, ignoring it as it was dragged away.


    Stepping back as several of the remaining fighters began to panic at the sight of a fatal match, Kimimela turned to try and leave. She found the door barred shut, and a few warning gunshots overhead convinced her to return to the middle of the waiting area. "I guess this late-night crowd is more demanding," she thought, biting her lip as another fight was called. "If Ninja doesn't get back soon, she may be on her own..."


    Watching a girl in a floral leotard get dumped onto a bed before a sheet was pulled over her body, the Urban Ninja crept forward from her hiding place once the attendents left the recouperation room. She reached beneath the sheet, feeling no pulse from the beaten fighter beneath it. Lowering her head for a moment, the Ninja paused as she noticed a concealed IV unit set up beneath the bed. She pulled the sheet back, and then rolled the floral girl onto her side. Several needles were connected to her back through an opening in the bed, clearly moving fluids into and out of her body. The Ninja carefully laid her down again, replacing the sheet over her face before crouching to inspect the IV unit.


    Her eyes half-open as she weakly clawed at her opponent's face, the girl in the clover-themed faded green tights was on her knees and held in a tight chokehold.

    "Clover Maeve has been defeated in the ring of combat. Jun Bo, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Moments later, Jun Bo twisted Maeve's head with a snap and walked away, arms raised and basking in the crowd's cheers. The irish girl made a long gurgling noise as her body stayed upright on her knees for several seconds before slumping forward.

    "That was one of the fighters Ninja wanted to keep an eye on," thought Kimimela, watching the irish girl being dragged away. "Not much to see anymore..." As the next fight was called, she turned to see the next combatants enter the ring. "Wait, that's another one!"


    "Step away from my equipment," said the woman in the lab coat.

    The Urban Ninja quickly turned, throwing a hypodermic needle from a nearby tabletop. The woman in the lab coat raised her clip-board just in time for the needle to spike into it like a dart. "Dr Herrington," said the Ninja, "why are you doing this? These fighters don't deserve to be turned into such playthings."

    "You make this sound like a crime," replied Dr Herrington. "They are being healed. Brought back from the brink of death!"

    "And then brainwashed into gladiators and lab rats," hissed the Urban Ninja, stepping forward. She stopped in her tracks as four women in surgical masks entered the room and formed a wall in front of Dr Herrington. They threw aside their labcoats to reveal dark sleeveless catsuits, and assumed combat stances.

    "Leave her in one piece, if you could," remarked Dr Herrington as she turned to leave the room. "Physically, anyway. I can still use her if she's a vegetable."

    The Urban Ninja's eyes darted left and right as she began to crouch low, the four henchwomen circling around her.


    A terrified fighter named Twinkletoes let out a stunned grunt as her opponent's roundhouse kick knocked her to the floor. Her purple longsleeve shirt and white spandex leggings were soon stained with blood as it ran from her nose, the girl desperately backing away as she tried to clear her vision. A chinese girl in a ripped yellow t-shirt and faded pink shorts looked on coldly as she continued to approach Twinkletoes, quickly blocking a wild right hook before dashing forward and slipping behind her.

    "That one seems to have gotten used to this quickly," thought Kimimela, as the chinese girl's chokehold soon had Twinkletoes on her knees.

    "Twinkletoes has been defeated in the ring of combat. Little Sunny, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Eyes fluttering as she croaked her submission, Twinkletoes let out a frightened cry as Fan "Little Sunny" quickly turned, releasing her momentarily. Just as quickly, the chinese girl wrapped a leg around Twinkletoes' neck and forced her to the floor before scissoring her other leg and strangling the girl. Twinkletoes kicked frantically, her eyes still wide as her opponent broke her neck and twisted her head to a gruesome angle. Fan stood and walked away without a second glance at the girl laying on the arena floor behind her.


    Twisting and tossing the first woman to attack her, the Urban Ninja quickly looked over her shoulder as she dodged another attack. Leaping upon the fallen henchwoman, the Ninja slammed her face into the floor to finish her off. Another attacker snuck up behind her and applied a hard chokehold, while a third woman began laying punches into the Ninja's gut. Wincing and gasping, the Ninja kicked up to legs and wrapped them around the puncher's head, and then span her body. The leglocked woman went headfirst through a tray of medical instruments, while the other one went to the ground with the Ninja and still held the chokehold tightly.

    Squirming rapidly, the Urban Ninja barely managed to get herself free, and immediately kicked the henchwoman in the face as she stood. Turning around, she barely avoided another attack. Grabbing the third henchwoman as she missed, the Ninja slammed her face into one of the monitors in the room.

    Preparing to run, the Ninja felt a surprising numbness in her back. Quickly, it became a searing pain. One of the henchwomen jabbed her again with an electrical prod, felling the Ninja to her knees.

    "No..." thought the Ninja, "Couldn't...couldn't fight them all..."

    Though two of the henchwomen were out of the fight, the other two began brutalizing the Urban Ninja with electrical prods. Quickly, the masked girl was screaming in pain, writhing on the floor and fighting to stay conscious.


    There was a small commotion before one of the ring attendents quickly left the fighting area. Kimimela took the moment, quietly slipping out the door before anyone noticed. She kept low, heading towards the source of the noise that echoed down the hallways of the warehouse.


    Gasping for breath, the Urban Ninja soon realized another combatant had joined the fray and assaulted her remaining attackers. One of the henchwomen lay sprawled across one of the computer workstations, while the other was being beaten into a bloody pulp by the small girl seated on her chest. Seeing that the henchwoman was completely defeated, the girl scuttled on all fours towards the Urban Ninja.

    "You're..." The Urban Ninja clutched one of the many bruised and pained areas on her body. "You're that fighter I saw earlier...Monkey Rouge?" The little red-head nodded, her large eyes wide and alert. "But how...why?" began the ninja. Monkey pointed at a now-empty bed, and then raised one of the electrical prods before smashing it on the floor.

    "I see," said the Ninja. "You had only just come around since your match...thank you, I..." The Ninja began to stand, and Monkey quickly helped her keep her balance.

    Kimimela peered into the room. "Did you find what you need? It looks like it's time for us to get out of here. Is she with us?" She gestured at Monkey.

    "Yes..." answered the Ninja. "I found the information I needed, let's disappear."

    The three fighters quickly exited the building, still in their fighting attire as they approached a car hidden in a nearby alleyway. They got inside, Kimimela taking the driver's seat.

    "Herrington WAS involved," said the Ninja. "Using...KadeTech and something else...a miracle of healing, followed by a crime of brainwashing."

    "So what about Lalita?" asked Kimimela. "The girl's a lot stronger than before she was 'fixed up' in that place."

    "She awoke before the brainwashing process could be...applied," said the Ninja. "Now she can know exactly what has been done to her body."

    "What about the monkey girl?" Kimimela peered in the rearview mirror.

    The Urban Ninja turned to look at Monkey Rouge, who returned the look with an attentive stare. After a moment, the Ninja said, "...can you keep a secret?"
    Sickerton and Kargan3033 like this.
  5. Raden

    Raden Ryonani Teamster

    Sep 24, 2011
    Likes Received:
    The fighting scenes are well described, but I am having a little trouble following the story behind them. Unless it is coming later, there doesn't seem to be any explanation of how Fan was dead before and then fighting in part 2, aside from some unknown machine. Unless that was your intent anyway, and the explanation is forthcoming.

    edit: I figured out how to properly merge threads, so I did that. If you want your thread title changed to remove the "part numbers" let me know what you want it changed to.

    Also, still a very good story. I found myself reading it again.
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 10, 2012
  6. Pitwar

    Pitwar Vivacious Visitor

    May 9, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Thank you! :) Maybe just "Warehouse 17" as the thread title?
  7. Bagel

    Bagel Potential Patron

    Mar 26, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Wow, very interesting read!! I like how how you had so many great matches interlaced with each chapter as the story goes on in the background. It looks like you've thought up a lot of intriguing characters, makes me wish the matches were longer of if they said more during their fights so we could get to know them. Hope we get to see more of Lady Kraken and Lalita, their my favorites so far :P

    The first chapter is definitely my favorite, introducing us to what looks like main characters only for them to bite it in the next scene in a almost Mortal Kombat-esque fashion. Dayum....Very shocking and very cool, hope there's more to come :)
  8. Pitwar

    Pitwar Vivacious Visitor

    May 9, 2012
    Likes Received:

    Dr Herrington looked over her clipboard, eyes relaxed as she waited for Warehouse 17's early evening matches to finish. She had experiments to run, and little interest in the venue's cover as a host to non-lethal pit fights.

    "How much longer?" she asked, turning to one of her masked assistants.

    "There are five matches remaining on the schedule," answered the assistant.

    "Bother." Dr Herrington looked at one of the fighters that lay on the beds in her area of the recouperation room. "Proceed as usual. Once the matches are over and the conscious fighters have left, begin our deadlier contests and seed our subjects into the round."

    "What about the losers?" asked the assistant. "One or two will still be in the recouperation room."

    "They never notice," replied Dr Herrington. "I don't want to wait for a few beaten brawlers to wake up before we get to work."


    Stepping into the caged waiting area near the ring, Lahela looked around for a moment before moving to an empty spot to wait for her block of matches to begin. She had come to take part in a special invitational that was set up through a messageboard she used online, where she went by the username Princess Pele. A college freshman in Health Education, Lahela let her silky black hair hang straight down over her shoulders, and wore a scant crimson two-piece outfit. She had a ring of flowers around her head, and a frilly green grass-skirt stitched into the waistband of her briefs.

    "Next match! Aguila versus Natalie Bell!"

    Lahela was surprised and slightly relieved to see a fighter even younger than herself in the form of Natalie Bell, a girl in a gray sports top and blue boyshorts with long brown hair. Natalie looked meekly at her opponent before doing a quick warm-up. Aguila was a spanish girl dressed in red bikini tights, her skin and dark hair glistening with moisture as she strode forward.

    Despite fighting hard, Natalie ended up on the mat and at Aguila's mercy after every engagement. The spanish girl would put her opponent into a limb-focused submission hold, seeming to relish in maximizing the pain inflicted until she would let Natalie go and wait for her to get up.

    "I think you should leave, the night's almost over," said a girl behind Lahela. The hawaiian turned to see who addressed her: a brown-skinned fighter dressed in a dark purple swimsuit over black leggings that bared her heels and toes. She wore a black balaclava as well, which covered all but her eyes and hair.

    "Huh? C'mon, I'm watching," answered Lahela, looking back to the match.

    Aguila slowly pulled Natalie into a rear naked choke and full bodyscissors. The younger fighter was clearly finished, gasping for air as it was forced out of her. She made squeaking noises as her eyes went glossy, shuddering as Aguila prolonged the chokehold to make Natalie suffer until she nearly passed out.

    "Natalie Bell has been defeated in the ring of combat. Aguila, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Suddenly, Aguila arched her back and began to bend Natalie's spine at the waist. The young fighter's will broke, and she shrieked in agony for several seconds before passing out. Aguila let the girl flop to the mat, posing beside her body as Natalie twitched involuntarily while she lay unconscious.

    "I said," continued the masked girl, "you should leave. The fights get a lot more nasty soon."

    Lahela gave the girl a glare over her shoulder. "Who are you, anyway?"

    After a pause, the masked fighter replied. "...Sheila Veil."

    "Well, SHEILA," answered Lahela, "if you're so scared, why don't you leave before they call you into the ring?"

    "Next match! Sheila Veil versus Baldur!"

    "Oops." Lahela winked.

    Sheila Veil closed her eyes, and then shook her head before walking past the hawaiian girl.


    As Baldur stood waiting, flexing his powerful body and wearing only a pair of black briefs, Sheila Veil crept into the ring and watched him silently as she ran a hand through her long, dark hair. The crew-cut german fighter raised his hands as his opponent crouched into an amateur wrestling stance.

    There was a moment of excitement as the crowd saw the masked fighter charge in and lock up with the muscular german wrestler, but it soon became clear that Sheila Veil was not hiding any secret strength as she was quickly lifted off her feet and bodyslammed hard enough to bounce her off the floor. She shook her head in a daze as she stood up, allowing Baldur to close in and slide his arms around her waist. Sheila Veil was lifted once again, held sideways in mid-air for a moment before Baldur began to make a show of turning her entire body in a clockwise spin several times as she audibly suffered. Once his opponent was sufficiently dizzy, Baldur tossed her up and away. Sheila Veil soared through the air and landed several feet away, rolling over painfully as she cradled her head.

    Baldur posed and flexed for the crowd as he waited for his opponent to stand, and the bloodthirsty audience lit up as Sheila Veil seemed to stumble straight into his arms. She visibly struggled, legs kicking wildly as Baldur scooped her up and held her against his chest. He slammed her down onto his knee three times, and Sheila Veil screamed louder with each backbreaker. Standing up and still holding onto the wailing masked fighter, Baldur raised her up and pressed her body overhead. He lifted and lowered Sheila Veil several times, unphased by her panicked and manically flailing limbs. "NO MORE!!" she cried, "NO MORE, YOU WIN!!" Baldur pushed up, releasing Sheila Veil and letting her body hit the floor face-first. The masked fighter writhed, moaning as she lay on her stomach. Baldur grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her to her feet. Sheila Veil's eyes stared helplessly forward, her arms limp at her sides as she gave no resistance other than her weak verbal submissions.

    "Sheila Veil has been defeated in the ring of combat. Baldur, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Once again, Baldur pressed Sheila Veil overhead. Then, he slowly moved one hand away, holding her aloft on one palm that rested against her flank. Baldur flexed the muscles of his free arm as Sheila was helplessly used as a show of pure strength on his part. Finally he pitched her back down to the mat. Sheila barely had time to come to a rest before she was pulled into a sitting position and had a humiliating one-armed sleeper hold applied. Baldur's pumping bicep cut off the flow of blood and oxygen to her brain, and Sheila Veil quickly succumbed to his power as her legs began to flop weakly. Baldur stood, leaving his opponent spreadeagled and forgotten at his feet as he posed one more time for the crowd.

    "What a loser," thought Lahela, as she watched Sheila Veil's limp form get dragged away. "Who was she to tell me what to do?"


    Approaching her employer, the masked assistant stopped to stand at attention. "Doctor, the opening matches are complete."

    "Wonderful," said Dr Herrington, smiling warmly. She turned to a small number of fighters that all sat up from their beds and assembled before her. "My dear subjects, it's time once again to procure for me some data. Don't worry, no matter what happens...I'll take care of you."

    The fighters all stared blankly for a few moments, before heading to the arena.


    Gripping the chinese girl in a tight bearhug, Lady Kraken ground her opponent in the hold until the girl stopped fighting back and simply thrashed. She threw the fighter away, letting her tumble across the ring. The tendril-facepainted woman looked down at the chinese girl, whose yellow sleeveless belly t-shirt and pink shorts were faded and frayed. Lady Kraken enjoyed the Warehouse. She fought in a mixture of venues, but always took pleasure in those that allowed her to end her match with a kill. Warehouse 17 was engaging in some kind of experiment, but all Lady Kraken cared about was the fact that it seemed to provide an endless supply of deathmatch sparring partners.

    Grabbing hold of the chinese girl once she had pushed herself up onto one knee, Lady Kraken applied a front facelock and slowly turned around in place with her opponent trapped against her before dragging the struggling fighter towards one of the wooden barriers around the ring. Then, she executed a modified DDT that drove the chinese girl's head straight into the barrier with a crack. As her opponent stumbled in place, Lady Kraken released her, only to slam both of her fists down into the girl's back. The chinese fighter fell facedown like a sack of bricks, laying still as her opponent loomed over her. Lady Kraken picked up one of her opponent's legs by an ankle, and dragged her back into the center of the ring. She had thought the match would be a bit of a challenge at first, but the chinese girl lost all of her momentum after receiving a pair of powerslams. Reaching down, the facepainted woman collected her opponent off the floor and held her in her arms for a few moments. Then, she slowly raised the girl and held her limp form overhead. The chinese girl coughed, twitching weakly as she began to try and get free.

    "Little Sunny has been defeated in the ring of combat. Lady Kraken, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Throwing Fan "Little Sunny" down in front of her, Lady Kraken let the girl's body crash to the mat before she stepped over and sat down on her opponent. Fan squirmed helplessly, trying to crawl as she was pinned down under the facepainted woman. Lady Kraken slammed her fists down onto Fan's head, stunning the girl long enough to collect her legs and lock in a boston crab hold. Leaning back and pushing one knee down into Fan's spine, Lady Kraken applied pressure until she felt something beneath her pop. Then, she wrenched back and heard a satisfying snap in time with her opponent's sharp cry of agony. Releasing Fan's legs as they went numb, Lady Kraken took a moment to turn around and grab the chinese girl's head. Fan was hyperventilating, her back broken and body going into shock. Lady Kraken began wrenching and twisting her opponent's head left and right, stopping only when the chinese girl had gone completely still after a few sickening crunches. She stood and walked away from the body, leaving her opponent facedown on the mat. Lady Kraken felt sated, but only just.


    Breaking out in a cold sweat, Lahela turned to leave but found herself faced with a locked door and armed guards. She looked back to see Little Sunny's body being dragged away. Other fighters in the caged waiting area began to look as worried as she did, but not all of them. Lahela realized that some of the other combatants seemed quite calm, while a few looked almost blank. Another pair were summoned into the ring, and she could only watch with dread.


    The little irish redhead called Clover Maeve was full of fight, and half the size of her opponent. Nicasio slammed her body into the mat, stepping back to brush his hair out of his eyes. The greek wrestler was clad in blue briefs that were much brighter than the tattered faded-green leotard of his opponent. He let Maeve stand, motioning to the girl to attack him. The blank look in her eyes disconcerted the greek fighter somewhat, but as he reversed her attempted takedown into a front-facelock, he soon forgot about it. Holding his struggling opponent in place for a few moments, Nicasio then lifted her into a hanging vertical suplex and began to walk forward, holding Maeve upside-down above him.

    After his loss to Holly Brockler at the Combat Lotto, Nicasio was anything but disappointed to get his hands on an easier match and take out his lingering aggressions. He knew that he never could handle losing very well, but as long as there were more brutal venues like Warehouse 17, finishing a lesser opponent for good would always repair his ego. Finally completing the suplex, Nicasio rolled to his knees, watching the irish girl arch her back and gasp involuntarily. Raising his fists, he slammed them down into Maeve's chest before dragging her into a sleeper hold and forcing her back to her feet. Letting the irish girl struggle for a little while, Nicasio then leaned back and suplexed her, maintaining the sleeper hold until her head bounced off the floor.

    Taking hold of one of Maeve's ankles, Nicasio dragged her weakly-resisting body across the mat until he reached the center of the ring. He released her foot, and was surprised to see the small redhead painfully begin to stand. Maeve's once-shrill voice was hoarse as she heaved for breath, her eyes unfocused and her mouth hanging open. She slowly raised a fist, but one hard right hook made her head jiggle in place before she fell to her knees. Nicasio exhaled slowly, not understanding how his opponent was anything but a beaten foe laying at his feet. Before Maeve could finish her slow, gurgling breath, Nicasio lifted her off the floor and onto his shoulders. Applying an argentine backbreaker, Nicasio ground Maeve's spine over his back, bending her flailing body until she began to scream. After a few moments, he lessened the pressure but held her limp form in place and looked to the crowd.

    "Clover Maeve has been defeated in the ring of combat. Nicasio, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Smiling for a moment, Nicasio then began to slowly increase the pressure of the argentine backbreaker once again. He bent Maeve farther and farther, forcing louder and louder noises to come out of her body as her arms and legs began to shudder. Maeve's vertebrae began to pop, one by one, as her spine bent to a crippling degree. Sweating from the exertion, Nicasio steadfastly continued to pull his arms down until he finally heard his opponent's back break. Maeve's head snapped back, a small spurt of blood escaping her lips as she made a pained noise. The irish girl inhaled moistly for a moment, twitching once before going limp.

    Dumping his opponent's body behind him, Nicasio planted a foot onto Maeve's broken back and raised his hands in victory. Once again, he felt unstoppable.


    As Natalie Bell groggily left the recouperation room, one of the masked assistants noted her departure. Looking at the still-unconscious Sheila Veil, the assistant turned to see Maeve's body being dragged in. "Put her on the unit beside Little Sunny," said the assistant, pointing to Fan's still form. As Maeve was laid down, a series of needles under her body slowly began to inject a fluid into her blood stream.

    "Process underway. This masked buffoon will probably be out for another half an hour," muttered the assistant, gesturing at Sheila Veil. "I'll come back to the arena with you, I need a break from watching losers come in and out of here."

    Soon, the recouperation room was empty. Sheila Veil slowly opened her eyes.


    "Next match! Princess Pele versus Morgan Nelson!"

    Forced into the ring, Lahela stood wide-eyed and facing her opponent, a ponytailed fighter in a black swimsuit. The brown-haired woman wore black bands around her wrists and ankles, and a dark domino mask around her eyes. Lahela slowly stepped forward, still clad in her crimson and grass-skirted two-piece. The ring of flowers remained around her head as she bowed stiffly, hoping to stay in her opponent's good graces as Morgan simply stared back at her.


    Creeping across the recouperation room, Sheila Veil approached Little Sunny and Maeve's bodies. She looked on as the two beaten fighters slowly began to breathe, thanks to the experimental chemical treatments they continued to be subject to. "Only you two...I guess that's fate," thought Sheila Veil, drawing a small pair of metal cylinders from inside her mask. Sliding them open to reveal needle-points, she crawled under the tables and plugged the needles into Little Sunny and Maeve's medical units.


    Beating at Morgan's body as the wrestler held her in mid-air, Lahela had no idea how to apply her training to someone that could literally pick her up and throw her like a sandbag. Taking a hard bodyslam, Lahela had barely a second to recover before her opponent's hands grabbed her silky black hair and wrenched her back up to her feet. She threw three punches into Morgan's gut before the masked woman retaliated with three headbutts. Her flower-ring headdress falling to the ground as she stumbled in place, Lahela stared crosseyed at Morgan before she was lifted off her feet by her waist. Morgan charged forward, eventually ramming her opponent's back into one of the wooden barriers around the ring. While Lahela cried out in pain, Morgan turned and threw her onto the floor.


    "What are you doing? Get away from there!" The masked assistant dropped her coffee, having returned to the room to see Sheila Veil tampering with the primary test subjects. She scrambled to reach for her weapon as the fighter ran towards her. Sheila Veil delivered a leaping kick that cracked the assistant's head against the door behind her, leaving her unconscious on the floor.

    She darted back to Little Sunny and Maeve, who began twitching and shivering. "Come back to me..." she uttered quietly, pulling off her mask. "Come on..." Sheila Veil constantly looked back at the door, hearing footsteps in the halls outside.


    After a series of kneelifts and bodyblows, Lahela took a hard blow to her back that dropped her to the ground. Morgan slowly pulled her back up to her feet, and then shoved her head under one arm. Draping one of Lahela's limp arms over her shoulder and taking hold of the hawaiian girl's grass skirt, Morgan raised her into a hanging vertical suplex. Lahela moaned hoarsly as she was held upside-down, helpless until she was finally slammed onto her back.

    Pushing her thumbs into Lahela's cheeks, Morgan gripped her opponent's face and lifted her into a standing position before delivering another headbutt. She released the hawaiian girl, who slowly slumped to her knees as she struggled to stay conscious. Morgan calmly walked around behind her, and then wound up a fist. A lariat struck Lahela in the back of her head, leaving her facedown on the ground. Morgan sat down on her back, pulling the girl's arms up and over her knees. Feeling fingers slide under her chin, Lahela began to protest and shake her head before she was locked into an agonizing camel clutch hold.


    "Luh..." Little Sunny's mouth struggled to form words. "Lalita...?"

    Smiling for a moment, 'Sheila Veil' nodded as her friend said her real name. Then, she quickly turned around to fight off another pair of masked assistants as they burst into the room. She grabbed a nearby clipboard, breaking it across one of the masked women's faces before drop-kicking the woman through a computer monitor. The remaining assistant grabbed hold of Lalita, wrestling her to the ground and trying to lock in a rear naked choke. Lalita threw her head back, smashing into the assistant's face several times before the chokehold dug into her throat. Gasping, Lalita began to gurgle as the choke took its toll.

    As her vision grew fuzzy, she suddenly felt herself being released as the masked assistant took a hard kick to the side of her head. Lifting her head to see what happened, Lalita saw Little Sunny stomp twice on the back of the masked assistant's head before reaching down and locking in a chokehold of her own. Yanking back, Little Sunny did not release her foe until she felt something break.

    "F-Fan," said Lalita, getting to her feet, "Fan, Maeve, you've got to come with me."

    "What happened to me?" stuttered Maeve, shivering as she held her side. "I-I only remember...hurting..."

    "I don't...I don't understand, why am I still here?" Fan looked down at herself, still dressed in the 'Little Sunny' outfit she had fought and died in.

    "No time," said Lalita. "No time! Follow me, there's a car waiting nearby."

    The three girls quickly escaped, fleeing through the corridors of Warehouse 17.


    "Princess Pele has been defeated in the ring of combat. Morgan Nelson, you may deliver your finishing blow. Vanquish her!"

    Quivering and clutching her neck and back, Lahela gasped as her opponent shoved her back onto her stomach and began to apply another camel clutch. "N-no! Augh! AUUUGH!!" Lahela slapped her hands against Morgan's legs and kicked her feet wildly as her body began to bend once again. "GIVE! GIVE!! STOP STOP STOOOAAAAWWWWWGH!!!" The hawaiian girl's chest shivered and creaked. "NO, NO, NAWW-UGH!!!"

    Morgan yanked back, snapping something in her opponent's back. Lahela went into shock, her legs twitching a few times as her mouth was wide open in a silent scream. Tightening her grip around Lahela's head and throat, Morgan then twisted the girl's neck to one side as she wrenched it back even farther. One more snap was followed by a long, rattling breath as Lahela's neck and throat were broken and bent. Foamy spittle dripped from her lips as her eyes rolled back. Morgan held the hawaiian girl's body in its torturous position for several seconds as its muscles gave a few final spasms, and then stood up to walk away. Lahela lay facedown and unmoving, her flower-ring headdress in a crumpled heap several feet away from her grass-skirted body.


    Tapping a finger on a damaged console, Dr Herrington looked glumly at her laboratory. "Infiltrated? I can't blame the girl, I suppose," she mused. "By all accounts it's quite unfair for us to keep her friends when we failed to fog her own mind. Only two missing?"

    A masked woman nodded. "Yes, Doctor. Subjects 1841 and..."

    "I know which ones are gone," said Dr Herrington. She sighed. "Oh well. Maybe we'll be left alone to our work now, at least for a little while."

    "You aren't..." The assistant ducked her head a little as she lowered her voice. "...afraid that Madam K will be angered?"

    "Three of her enhanced prototype battle maidens have formed a coven and taken off into the night," replied Dr Herrington. "She'll feel like a proud mother. Besides, there are always more to replace the ones who leave the nest. All we have to worry about is the fact that the meddling ninja girl seems to have found a counter-agent for our mental suppressant."

    Walking towards a nearby table, Dr Herrington took the clipboard from its side and regarded the deceased fighter whose body was being filled with experimental chemical treatments. "Princess Pele...cute," mused the doctor, just as Lahela's lungs began to draw breath once more.
    Sickerton and Kargan3033 like this.
  9. TheCrimsonRisk

    TheCrimsonRisk Ryonani Teamster

    Jun 10, 2010
    Likes Received:
    It's been a while, man! The wait has been worth it though because your descriptions are as good as ever. I also love the selection of holds: Argentine backbreaker? Check. Bearhug? Check. Camel clutch? Check. I continue to be in awe of your work, sir, even as I ape your style :p
  10. meinteil

    meinteil Avid Affiliate

    Nov 3, 2012
    Likes Received:
    Great story, you going to continue it?
  11. Kargan3033

    Kargan3033 Club Regular

    Aug 10, 2015
    Likes Received:
    Nicely done Pitwar, your stories are getting better and better, I have to say this is becoming one of my fav story arcs next to Code Red's Ryona Rumble.