STATE OF MIND
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"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.
