Post by Morgan Payne on Jan 16, 2020 16:04:34 GMT -8
Three days. Three fucking days she had spent, getting up in the morning just to run this goddamn gauntlet and for what? What was the purpose? What was the lesson? Persevere and keep trying to make it further than the day or even the time before? She was, for the most part. It was the same system every day and every single attempt. Morgan didn’t know where Connor had found the first five idiots that came at her in two waves. Probably some dipshits he hired off of the streets to make a quick buck. She didn’t give a damn. The second half of the ten were always Van Owens and the same four Na Fianna trainees. Even biggum who fought with a patched up nose after Morgan broke it on the first day. Yeah...rebroke it on the second day, too. He didn’t like that much. Didn’t like it on the third day when she pinched the hell out of it and twisted it, either. Morgan felt she was doing well in the gauntlet at first but one thing stayed consistent. Van Owen. Van. Fucking. Owen. Every attempt that had her reach his wave - admittedly it wasn’t every attempt as the day dragged on - ended for her the same way. Put to sleep with a rear naked chokehold that cut off the blood flow to her brain, rather than just the oxygen. She was always out within seconds. It never failed. She was honestly starting to find the process redundant and secretly considered maybe she should quit. Maybe this was as far as she would ever make it under Connor. She would eventually fail him here and disappoint him like she felt she did almost everyone else in her life. Morgan didn’t want to quit, though. There had to be something she wasn’t thinking of. The words of Connor’s cousin, however, repeated in her head like a cliff note she’d taken down.
“Don’t give up.”
“I ain’t but… Goddamn Van Owen and that choke! Every time!”
“No rules. None. You’re missing the lesson.”
“Nah I get that part. Just gotta get that squirly MFer figured out.”
“...you’re not getting it.”
“No rules. I’ll remember. I made you a promise remember?”
“You’re not getting it… what I’m saying. There’s no rules.”
Black fatigue pants, combat boots, tank top. It was her standard attire for anything training related, even during a run in the gauntlet. Morgan Payne was beginning to feel like she was some kind of military student or some shit. She stood in front of the building in those clothes and her zip up hoodie, hood drawn up. For what felt like the hundredth time that week, Morgan ascended the steps of the stoop and went through the door. It was never the same approach. They always came at her at different times and locations within the structure. All she had to do was stay on her toes and keep her wits sharp. Morgan never did the same thing twice anymore when she stepped in here. She always took a different path, actively looking for that first wave. What sense was there in hiding from the schmos she knew she could handle with a combination of not only what Connor had been teaching her but what Jasmine Matthews had also passed onto her as well over previous months?
This time around, Morgan cut down one of the first floor hallways, rattling each door knob. It always changed, she realized. Some doors were locked while others were able to be opened each time she stepped in there to start another run. It had become useful for her to either hide or arm herself with something blunt. Today, she wasn’t so lucky as, while she found a couple of open doors, there wasn’t squat for her to pick up. Not on the first floor anyway. Morgan heard the hollow sound of footsteps on the hard tile floor out in the hallway while she was inside one of the rooms. She pressed her back against the wall and listened. Two pairs of feet. Sneakers. She stepped out into the hallway, facing forward and took a deep breath before turning to look down the way she’d come. Two men. The same two she’d ended up running into each time she started. Both of them sported the bruises and minor cuts from her fists and she sported the same from the few shots they’d gotten in. They weren’t trained like her but they sure were determined like her. Today was different, too. They were armed now. A bat and a crowbar. Morgan eyed the bat in the African American man’s hand. She’d come to favor using that as it was light and easy but effective. Oh so effective. She didn’t get one every day. Yesterday she had to settle for a sledgehammer. That wasn’t as fun as a bat. Fun…. That word scared her a little when she thought about it but it was true. In an odd...scary sort of way...Morgan was starting to find this whole process fun. She was enjoying the gauntlet, as tiring as it was. As much as her body ached from it, she felt an odd sort of thrill in facing off against people who wanted to legitimately hurt her. It wasn’t anything she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt before. Morgan turned to face the two men directly and walked towards them as they approached. The Caucasian man whose thumbs she almost broke slapped the crowbar into one hand while the African American rolled his wrist, rotating the bat at his side. Morgan wasn’t wasting a breath on a humored greeting this time. She was done fucking around.
No rules.
Morgan broke out into a sprint down the hallway with a guttural yell climbing up in her throat until it filled the hallway. Her two intended assailants picked up the pace to meet her. Neither of them were expecting the petite little woman to actually come flying at them! Morgan left the floor, leaping up and forward with her knees landing on the African American with the bat’s shoulders. Her elbows came down hard, cracking him in the top of the head. He crumpled to the floor and Morgan rolled off of his shoulders, up into a crouch after twisting to ensure she was paying attention to the Caucasian with the crowbar. Morgan straightened her posture and got into a stance as he came in and swung the hook end of the crowbar at her. She weaved under it as it ended up buried inside the plaster of the wall. As the man tried to pull it free, Morgan swung a leg up and drove a precise kick right into his ribs. It did enough to wind him but not drop him so Morgan stepped in and followed up with her other leg, driving her knee up into his kidney. His head flew back with an audible cry but Morgan didn’t let up. An inward stomp from the same leg she kneed him with took him behind the knee and he buckled. Morgan grabbed him by the back of his head, handfuls of shirt and hair and rammed his face into the wall. He showed signs of slowing. Not enough. Morgan stepped behind him and skipped in place, hitting a sort of bicycle kick right into the back of his head and sandwiching his face between the wall and the sole of her boot. He went limp and slumped to the floor.
Connor MacNamara’s student turned her aggression back to the African American she’d taken down first. He was already getting up onto one knee, holding his head. His bat was on the floor. Morgan promptly scooped it up with a hollow, metallic scraping sound against the tile and moved in behind the man as he braced his hand on the wall. Her target. Morgan gripped the handle of the bat and brought it down in a mighty swing that connected with his wrist. She heard something crack as he immediately brought his arm against himself and let out a scream that filled the hallway. Morgan drowned out his screams with one of her own, filled with unbridled rage as she hit a homer right across the back of his head. He hit the floor, face down, like a sack of bricks. Morgan hesitated, looking between the two, paying close attention. Still breathing. She nodded to herself and gripped the bat at her side, walking back down the hallway towards the entrance lobby once more.
Morgan climbed the stairs to the second level and brought the bat up to rest on her shoulder, at the ready. She knew the Three Stooges, as she’d come to think of them as, were close by and waiting. They probably weren’t too fond of her either. Morgan scoured the second level. What had come over her, she didn’t know. What kind of person actively looked for people that wanted to hurt them?
The door started to open as she moved passed it. Think fast! Morgan pivoted on her heel and slammed the sole of her boot into the door, slamming it shut. She heard it smash into something...or someone. Definitely someone as she heard a yell on the other side of the door. Then came the footsteps, rushing up to the door. Morgan stepped to the side to hide around the wall that extended out from the door and readied her bat. First sign of someone’s head coming into view and there came the pommel of her bat, right into their temple with a dull smack. He staggered, still holding his police baton. Morgan pushed a foot against his ass and sent him sprawling onto the floor. Second one came out of the doorway and came at her with a blackjack. Morgan bobbed and weaved - she was getting good at that. She followed through with the evasive maneuver and...well...she just swung...driving the side of the bat into the back of his ribs as hard as she could. She brought the bat right back around in one hand and gave him an aluminum kiss right across the face. No sooner than he went down did the third idiot come in with a set of brass knuckles on each hand, jabbing at her face. Morgan stepped back, parrying with her bat - CLANGCLANG-CLANG - he caught her in the stomach with a thrust of his foot, however, and sent her back against the railing. Going over meant a fall to the first level and a bad rest of her day. Morgan didn’t know who taught this guy to kick but it surely wasn’t an instructor. She side stepped out of the path of his shitty excuse for an attack. His foot landed on the railing. Her bat came down on his tibia bone with an audible crack. It didn’t give but she knew she’d fractured it, at least. His foot came back down to the floor and he grabbed at his leg. Another swing for the fences caught him in the face and he dropped. He wasn’t completely done as Morgan saw him pushing up on his hands.
No rules.
Morgan let out a guttural scream and lunged forward the two steps it took before she jumped and brought her foot down onto the back of his head. More of an in-ring maneuver but it was effective when done right; curb stomp to the back of the head, smashing his face into the floor. She surveyed the three, overall, making sure none of them were still kicking. None of them--no, wait. Blackjack man was slowly getting to his feet. Morgan promptly walked right up and brought the pommel of the bat across the back of his neck. A spot Connor had showed her on the human body. Instant knockout. The guy hit the floor and Morgan picked up his blackjack, tucking it in the back of her belt and covered it with her hoodie. She felt that adrenaline rush as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. She wasn’t expecting the door she climbed towards to fly open with one of the students coming right at her. Morgan swung but the student caught the bat in both hands and twisted hard. Morgan let go to avoid being thrown to the floor, or worse down the stairs. Now he had her weapon and aimed for her head. Morgan dipped low and threw herself into him, lifting the young man about her age who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and eighty off his feet and ran him back through the open door until she felt him slam into a wall. She wasn’t about to let him go, though, even as she felt his elbows driving down into her back. She lifted him again and brought them both down to the floor, scrambling to mount him over his chest and started just raining fists down until she felt an arm around be wrapped around her neck and pull her off. Morgan panicked. Van Owen?! No. A naked arm and not nearly tight enough on the hold.
Morgan was whipped around and saw the rest coming right at her. The big one and the female. She could even see Van Owen in the back, watching everything unfold. Morgan kicked her feet up as biggum and girl came in range for a pair of pushing kicks to their chests that sent her and the one choking her back, slamming into the one she had brought down in the first place. Everyone went down in a mess of bodies with Morgan scrambling to get to her feet as quick as she could. The one she met first grabbed at her leg and she fell back again but Morgan kicked out her foot and drove her boot into his face to get him off. She rolled backwards to put a distance between herself and the others. All three of the students left standing came at her at once, throwing punches from all degrees in front of her. The onslaught inched her back; Morgan repeating that same wave motion with her arms to deflect the blows. Some got passed her guard and grazed her in the chest and sides. She was able to keep from taking too many hits but with so many coming so fast, she couldn’t find an opening for a counter attack. Morgan found herself stepping back down the hallway as she searched for a way out of her predicament. Fuck it. Eat one if ya gotta. Morgan stopped in her tracks and threw a kick into the middle one’s knee. He buckled and the girl, on her left, blasted her across the jaw with her bony knuckles. Morgan tasted metallic liquid in her mouth as she staggered back. Think fast! Morgan focused on the blood in her mouth and spit as the big one stepped in. The blood from her mouth caught him in the face and he stopped, frantically wiping with the backs of his hands.
“AGH!!!! CUNT!!”
No rules.
Morgan stepped in, blocking the next punch she threw with a forearm and moved her arm aside. Her other palm came up under her chin and Morgan turned, forcing the girl up against the wall, trapping her punching hand against her side under her armpit. The girl’s other hand reached back to find a handful of Morgan’s hair and yanked, causing her to let out a yell. Morgan didn’t let up with her hold on the arm or her hand under the chin, regardless, but she needed a way out quickly before the others came in for more. Knee to the snatch still hurts, a voice said in her head. Morgan drove her knee up between the girl’s legs. She let go of her hair and Morgan released her jaw before throwing her head forward, driving her forehead into the girl’s nose. CRUNCH! Morgan turned to see the one with her blood in his eyes coming in hot with his buddy right behind him. She stepped back, keeping a hold of the girl’s arm and pulled her in the way as she scurried back, causing a human pile up more or less. The big one only stumbled and went down to a knee while the other two ended up falling over each other. Biggum’s face was in range though and Morgan ran in, launching herself forward for another flying knee to the face. SMACK! Lucky hit and he was down for the count. Girl ran in again, bloodied and shrieking. Morgan ran to meet her and jumped, bringing an elbow down onto the top of her head. She landed on her feet and followed up quickly, as Connor had taught her. Don’t waste a single breath. An inside kick to the knee with one foot buckled the girl and a kick from her other foot caught her in the temple. Goodnight for now. One student left and he came in with every what was probably every strike he’d ever learned.
Morgan brought her forearms up, covering her face and dipping side to side to protect her vitals from being turned to mush. She weaved under a left hook and put her back to a wall. The young man came in with a yell of bloody murder and drove his fist right at her face. He hit only wall as Morgan moved to the side and heard the cracking of bone. She grabbed him by the back of his head and tanktop, throwing him face first into the wall before sweeping his legs out from under him. A final stomp across his head and he was out. She was far from finished with this first wave, however. Morgan turned her head up towards the ceiling and groaned in frustration. These four, and then Van Owen, so five. They were always like a wall to her progress. She would start her scrap with them unscathed and come out of the first attempt with her ass looking kicked. She was already sweating down her face, arms and neck. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth and out of one nostril. She snorted the blood out and did her best to walk back to that center, third floor lobby room back to Van Owen. Why he hadn’t just come at her with the others like he usually did, was anyone’s guess. She found him right where she left him, however, but true to the test before her, he said not a word. He didn’t even make a steady approach. He just came at her! Van Owen snapped out a fist which Morgan was able to block but as soon as she tried for a counter punch, she was twisted around and there was that read naked choke of his that had been the bane of her existence in this gauntlet. She was able to get her chin down just enough to protect most of her neck. It still made breathing difficult.
“Like clockwork, right?” Van Owen taunted in her ear as Morgan struggled to pull free. She knew she wasn’t getting his arm off of her with her own strength. Fuck it. Morgan sank her head down lower, opened wide and clamped down. Her teeth sank into the painted flesh of Van Owen’s forearm as his scream filled her hearing. What came next, however, hurt her ears even worse. Well, ear, that is, when she felt Van Owen bite down on her left ear as hard as he could. Morgan immediately let go of his arm with her teeth and threw her head back with an agonizing scream that was instantly cut off as she exposed her throat and he wrapped his arm around it before letting go of her ear. Goddamn it. God fucking damn it! At this point she expected it coming but damned it if didn’t piss her off. C’mon, Morgan. C’mon! Think! What the fuck are you not getting?!
No rules.
No rules. Morgan’s eyes hardened as it all came to her. The lesson that Connor’s cousin was trying to get her to understand. These people were trying to hurt her. These people weren’t opponents inside a ring. This was a street fight. No rules. Morgan reached back behind her, between herself and Van Owen. She found his crotch. She found his balls. She squeezed. Hard! Van Owen let out a sound between a scream and a wheezing groan as his grip loosened on her throat. Morgan shoved his arm away and twisted back, throwing her elbow into the side of his head. He staggered back, holding his crotch where she’d squeezed with a vice grip. Morgan didn’t give a shit anymore. No rules! She stepped in and drove the toe of her boot up into the man’s crotch again. Van Owen dropped to his knees with...with...was he fucking smiling?! Crazy fuck. Morgan swung her right foot in, up and back around outward, kicking him across his right side of his face. Van Owen fell to the side on the thinly carpeted floor and didn’t move, save for the rise and fall of his back from his breathing. Morgan stood in place and stared down at him wide eyed. That was it. She was done! She’d beaten Van Owen! Her excitement and feeling of victory quickly subsided when she heard a door down the main, wide hallway open at the end and several sets of footsteps. She couldn’t count how many, but she remembered the rules of the gauntlet. You beat the first ten? You get a fresh ten. It never ends. You get incapacitated? You start over. Morgan’s body ached as she stepped back away from Van Owe so she could stand in the center of the room, side turned towards the main hallway. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“So dis is da next buncha yinz, huh?” Morgan let out an exhausted, scoffing laugh. At least she made it passed the first wave after four days of trying. She opened her eyes, turned to face her next set of opponents and her blood ran cold through her veins. “I thought ya said ya were in Japan…?” She said in a weary voice to the one leading the approaching charge of men and women all clad in those black fatigue pants, tanktops and boots. Nine of them, plus the tenth in front. The leader, however stood out even in terms of attire. Matching pants, bloused over black boots and a white tanktop, fingerless gloves with a knee length trench coat that had what looked like a leather pauldron on one shoulder.
“I was.” The woman said in her Irish accent as she took a gander over at Van Owen’s motionless form. By god, if Morgan didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman was actually impressed, judging by the look on her face. She looked from Van Owen to Morgan. “You finally get it, then.”
“I get it….” Morgan said, swallowing hard and positioned her feet as her heart pounded harder than it’d ever pounded before. She brought her hands up, making fists and let out a deep breath. “No rules….”
“No rules.” The woman in the coat affirmed. She reached up and removed her coat, tossing it aside for now as she rolled her shoulders, loosening up. She was bigger than Morgan. Lean, feminine muscle that most men would still probably be envious of.
Morgan tightened her fists as she waited to see what would happen next as she found herself about ready to face off with ten more in the gauntlet. Nine other students, lead by the very one who had managed to ingrain it into her head the previous evening on what the key to progressing through this trial was. No rules. That individual, of course, being none other than her coach, Connor MacNamara’s cousin. The Godkiller, Aella Foley….
“Don’t give up.”
“I ain’t but… Goddamn Van Owen and that choke! Every time!”
“No rules. None. You’re missing the lesson.”
“Nah I get that part. Just gotta get that squirly MFer figured out.”
“...you’re not getting it.”
“No rules. I’ll remember. I made you a promise remember?”
“You’re not getting it… what I’m saying. There’s no rules.”
January 16th, 2020
10:00AM
10:00AM
Black fatigue pants, combat boots, tank top. It was her standard attire for anything training related, even during a run in the gauntlet. Morgan Payne was beginning to feel like she was some kind of military student or some shit. She stood in front of the building in those clothes and her zip up hoodie, hood drawn up. For what felt like the hundredth time that week, Morgan ascended the steps of the stoop and went through the door. It was never the same approach. They always came at her at different times and locations within the structure. All she had to do was stay on her toes and keep her wits sharp. Morgan never did the same thing twice anymore when she stepped in here. She always took a different path, actively looking for that first wave. What sense was there in hiding from the schmos she knew she could handle with a combination of not only what Connor had been teaching her but what Jasmine Matthews had also passed onto her as well over previous months?
This time around, Morgan cut down one of the first floor hallways, rattling each door knob. It always changed, she realized. Some doors were locked while others were able to be opened each time she stepped in there to start another run. It had become useful for her to either hide or arm herself with something blunt. Today, she wasn’t so lucky as, while she found a couple of open doors, there wasn’t squat for her to pick up. Not on the first floor anyway. Morgan heard the hollow sound of footsteps on the hard tile floor out in the hallway while she was inside one of the rooms. She pressed her back against the wall and listened. Two pairs of feet. Sneakers. She stepped out into the hallway, facing forward and took a deep breath before turning to look down the way she’d come. Two men. The same two she’d ended up running into each time she started. Both of them sported the bruises and minor cuts from her fists and she sported the same from the few shots they’d gotten in. They weren’t trained like her but they sure were determined like her. Today was different, too. They were armed now. A bat and a crowbar. Morgan eyed the bat in the African American man’s hand. She’d come to favor using that as it was light and easy but effective. Oh so effective. She didn’t get one every day. Yesterday she had to settle for a sledgehammer. That wasn’t as fun as a bat. Fun…. That word scared her a little when she thought about it but it was true. In an odd...scary sort of way...Morgan was starting to find this whole process fun. She was enjoying the gauntlet, as tiring as it was. As much as her body ached from it, she felt an odd sort of thrill in facing off against people who wanted to legitimately hurt her. It wasn’t anything she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt before. Morgan turned to face the two men directly and walked towards them as they approached. The Caucasian man whose thumbs she almost broke slapped the crowbar into one hand while the African American rolled his wrist, rotating the bat at his side. Morgan wasn’t wasting a breath on a humored greeting this time. She was done fucking around.
No rules.
Morgan broke out into a sprint down the hallway with a guttural yell climbing up in her throat until it filled the hallway. Her two intended assailants picked up the pace to meet her. Neither of them were expecting the petite little woman to actually come flying at them! Morgan left the floor, leaping up and forward with her knees landing on the African American with the bat’s shoulders. Her elbows came down hard, cracking him in the top of the head. He crumpled to the floor and Morgan rolled off of his shoulders, up into a crouch after twisting to ensure she was paying attention to the Caucasian with the crowbar. Morgan straightened her posture and got into a stance as he came in and swung the hook end of the crowbar at her. She weaved under it as it ended up buried inside the plaster of the wall. As the man tried to pull it free, Morgan swung a leg up and drove a precise kick right into his ribs. It did enough to wind him but not drop him so Morgan stepped in and followed up with her other leg, driving her knee up into his kidney. His head flew back with an audible cry but Morgan didn’t let up. An inward stomp from the same leg she kneed him with took him behind the knee and he buckled. Morgan grabbed him by the back of his head, handfuls of shirt and hair and rammed his face into the wall. He showed signs of slowing. Not enough. Morgan stepped behind him and skipped in place, hitting a sort of bicycle kick right into the back of his head and sandwiching his face between the wall and the sole of her boot. He went limp and slumped to the floor.
Connor MacNamara’s student turned her aggression back to the African American she’d taken down first. He was already getting up onto one knee, holding his head. His bat was on the floor. Morgan promptly scooped it up with a hollow, metallic scraping sound against the tile and moved in behind the man as he braced his hand on the wall. Her target. Morgan gripped the handle of the bat and brought it down in a mighty swing that connected with his wrist. She heard something crack as he immediately brought his arm against himself and let out a scream that filled the hallway. Morgan drowned out his screams with one of her own, filled with unbridled rage as she hit a homer right across the back of his head. He hit the floor, face down, like a sack of bricks. Morgan hesitated, looking between the two, paying close attention. Still breathing. She nodded to herself and gripped the bat at her side, walking back down the hallway towards the entrance lobby once more.
Morgan climbed the stairs to the second level and brought the bat up to rest on her shoulder, at the ready. She knew the Three Stooges, as she’d come to think of them as, were close by and waiting. They probably weren’t too fond of her either. Morgan scoured the second level. What had come over her, she didn’t know. What kind of person actively looked for people that wanted to hurt them?
The door started to open as she moved passed it. Think fast! Morgan pivoted on her heel and slammed the sole of her boot into the door, slamming it shut. She heard it smash into something...or someone. Definitely someone as she heard a yell on the other side of the door. Then came the footsteps, rushing up to the door. Morgan stepped to the side to hide around the wall that extended out from the door and readied her bat. First sign of someone’s head coming into view and there came the pommel of her bat, right into their temple with a dull smack. He staggered, still holding his police baton. Morgan pushed a foot against his ass and sent him sprawling onto the floor. Second one came out of the doorway and came at her with a blackjack. Morgan bobbed and weaved - she was getting good at that. She followed through with the evasive maneuver and...well...she just swung...driving the side of the bat into the back of his ribs as hard as she could. She brought the bat right back around in one hand and gave him an aluminum kiss right across the face. No sooner than he went down did the third idiot come in with a set of brass knuckles on each hand, jabbing at her face. Morgan stepped back, parrying with her bat - CLANGCLANG-CLANG - he caught her in the stomach with a thrust of his foot, however, and sent her back against the railing. Going over meant a fall to the first level and a bad rest of her day. Morgan didn’t know who taught this guy to kick but it surely wasn’t an instructor. She side stepped out of the path of his shitty excuse for an attack. His foot landed on the railing. Her bat came down on his tibia bone with an audible crack. It didn’t give but she knew she’d fractured it, at least. His foot came back down to the floor and he grabbed at his leg. Another swing for the fences caught him in the face and he dropped. He wasn’t completely done as Morgan saw him pushing up on his hands.
No rules.
Morgan let out a guttural scream and lunged forward the two steps it took before she jumped and brought her foot down onto the back of his head. More of an in-ring maneuver but it was effective when done right; curb stomp to the back of the head, smashing his face into the floor. She surveyed the three, overall, making sure none of them were still kicking. None of them--no, wait. Blackjack man was slowly getting to his feet. Morgan promptly walked right up and brought the pommel of the bat across the back of his neck. A spot Connor had showed her on the human body. Instant knockout. The guy hit the floor and Morgan picked up his blackjack, tucking it in the back of her belt and covered it with her hoodie. She felt that adrenaline rush as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. She wasn’t expecting the door she climbed towards to fly open with one of the students coming right at her. Morgan swung but the student caught the bat in both hands and twisted hard. Morgan let go to avoid being thrown to the floor, or worse down the stairs. Now he had her weapon and aimed for her head. Morgan dipped low and threw herself into him, lifting the young man about her age who couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and eighty off his feet and ran him back through the open door until she felt him slam into a wall. She wasn’t about to let him go, though, even as she felt his elbows driving down into her back. She lifted him again and brought them both down to the floor, scrambling to mount him over his chest and started just raining fists down until she felt an arm around be wrapped around her neck and pull her off. Morgan panicked. Van Owen?! No. A naked arm and not nearly tight enough on the hold.
Morgan was whipped around and saw the rest coming right at her. The big one and the female. She could even see Van Owen in the back, watching everything unfold. Morgan kicked her feet up as biggum and girl came in range for a pair of pushing kicks to their chests that sent her and the one choking her back, slamming into the one she had brought down in the first place. Everyone went down in a mess of bodies with Morgan scrambling to get to her feet as quick as she could. The one she met first grabbed at her leg and she fell back again but Morgan kicked out her foot and drove her boot into his face to get him off. She rolled backwards to put a distance between herself and the others. All three of the students left standing came at her at once, throwing punches from all degrees in front of her. The onslaught inched her back; Morgan repeating that same wave motion with her arms to deflect the blows. Some got passed her guard and grazed her in the chest and sides. She was able to keep from taking too many hits but with so many coming so fast, she couldn’t find an opening for a counter attack. Morgan found herself stepping back down the hallway as she searched for a way out of her predicament. Fuck it. Eat one if ya gotta. Morgan stopped in her tracks and threw a kick into the middle one’s knee. He buckled and the girl, on her left, blasted her across the jaw with her bony knuckles. Morgan tasted metallic liquid in her mouth as she staggered back. Think fast! Morgan focused on the blood in her mouth and spit as the big one stepped in. The blood from her mouth caught him in the face and he stopped, frantically wiping with the backs of his hands.
“AGH!!!! CUNT!!”
No rules.
Morgan stepped in, blocking the next punch she threw with a forearm and moved her arm aside. Her other palm came up under her chin and Morgan turned, forcing the girl up against the wall, trapping her punching hand against her side under her armpit. The girl’s other hand reached back to find a handful of Morgan’s hair and yanked, causing her to let out a yell. Morgan didn’t let up with her hold on the arm or her hand under the chin, regardless, but she needed a way out quickly before the others came in for more. Knee to the snatch still hurts, a voice said in her head. Morgan drove her knee up between the girl’s legs. She let go of her hair and Morgan released her jaw before throwing her head forward, driving her forehead into the girl’s nose. CRUNCH! Morgan turned to see the one with her blood in his eyes coming in hot with his buddy right behind him. She stepped back, keeping a hold of the girl’s arm and pulled her in the way as she scurried back, causing a human pile up more or less. The big one only stumbled and went down to a knee while the other two ended up falling over each other. Biggum’s face was in range though and Morgan ran in, launching herself forward for another flying knee to the face. SMACK! Lucky hit and he was down for the count. Girl ran in again, bloodied and shrieking. Morgan ran to meet her and jumped, bringing an elbow down onto the top of her head. She landed on her feet and followed up quickly, as Connor had taught her. Don’t waste a single breath. An inside kick to the knee with one foot buckled the girl and a kick from her other foot caught her in the temple. Goodnight for now. One student left and he came in with every what was probably every strike he’d ever learned.
Morgan brought her forearms up, covering her face and dipping side to side to protect her vitals from being turned to mush. She weaved under a left hook and put her back to a wall. The young man came in with a yell of bloody murder and drove his fist right at her face. He hit only wall as Morgan moved to the side and heard the cracking of bone. She grabbed him by the back of his head and tanktop, throwing him face first into the wall before sweeping his legs out from under him. A final stomp across his head and he was out. She was far from finished with this first wave, however. Morgan turned her head up towards the ceiling and groaned in frustration. These four, and then Van Owen, so five. They were always like a wall to her progress. She would start her scrap with them unscathed and come out of the first attempt with her ass looking kicked. She was already sweating down her face, arms and neck. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth and out of one nostril. She snorted the blood out and did her best to walk back to that center, third floor lobby room back to Van Owen. Why he hadn’t just come at her with the others like he usually did, was anyone’s guess. She found him right where she left him, however, but true to the test before her, he said not a word. He didn’t even make a steady approach. He just came at her! Van Owen snapped out a fist which Morgan was able to block but as soon as she tried for a counter punch, she was twisted around and there was that read naked choke of his that had been the bane of her existence in this gauntlet. She was able to get her chin down just enough to protect most of her neck. It still made breathing difficult.
“Like clockwork, right?” Van Owen taunted in her ear as Morgan struggled to pull free. She knew she wasn’t getting his arm off of her with her own strength. Fuck it. Morgan sank her head down lower, opened wide and clamped down. Her teeth sank into the painted flesh of Van Owen’s forearm as his scream filled her hearing. What came next, however, hurt her ears even worse. Well, ear, that is, when she felt Van Owen bite down on her left ear as hard as he could. Morgan immediately let go of his arm with her teeth and threw her head back with an agonizing scream that was instantly cut off as she exposed her throat and he wrapped his arm around it before letting go of her ear. Goddamn it. God fucking damn it! At this point she expected it coming but damned it if didn’t piss her off. C’mon, Morgan. C’mon! Think! What the fuck are you not getting?!
No rules.
No rules. Morgan’s eyes hardened as it all came to her. The lesson that Connor’s cousin was trying to get her to understand. These people were trying to hurt her. These people weren’t opponents inside a ring. This was a street fight. No rules. Morgan reached back behind her, between herself and Van Owen. She found his crotch. She found his balls. She squeezed. Hard! Van Owen let out a sound between a scream and a wheezing groan as his grip loosened on her throat. Morgan shoved his arm away and twisted back, throwing her elbow into the side of his head. He staggered back, holding his crotch where she’d squeezed with a vice grip. Morgan didn’t give a shit anymore. No rules! She stepped in and drove the toe of her boot up into the man’s crotch again. Van Owen dropped to his knees with...with...was he fucking smiling?! Crazy fuck. Morgan swung her right foot in, up and back around outward, kicking him across his right side of his face. Van Owen fell to the side on the thinly carpeted floor and didn’t move, save for the rise and fall of his back from his breathing. Morgan stood in place and stared down at him wide eyed. That was it. She was done! She’d beaten Van Owen! Her excitement and feeling of victory quickly subsided when she heard a door down the main, wide hallway open at the end and several sets of footsteps. She couldn’t count how many, but she remembered the rules of the gauntlet. You beat the first ten? You get a fresh ten. It never ends. You get incapacitated? You start over. Morgan’s body ached as she stepped back away from Van Owe so she could stand in the center of the room, side turned towards the main hallway. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“So dis is da next buncha yinz, huh?” Morgan let out an exhausted, scoffing laugh. At least she made it passed the first wave after four days of trying. She opened her eyes, turned to face her next set of opponents and her blood ran cold through her veins. “I thought ya said ya were in Japan…?” She said in a weary voice to the one leading the approaching charge of men and women all clad in those black fatigue pants, tanktops and boots. Nine of them, plus the tenth in front. The leader, however stood out even in terms of attire. Matching pants, bloused over black boots and a white tanktop, fingerless gloves with a knee length trench coat that had what looked like a leather pauldron on one shoulder.
“I was.” The woman said in her Irish accent as she took a gander over at Van Owen’s motionless form. By god, if Morgan didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman was actually impressed, judging by the look on her face. She looked from Van Owen to Morgan. “You finally get it, then.”
“I get it….” Morgan said, swallowing hard and positioned her feet as her heart pounded harder than it’d ever pounded before. She brought her hands up, making fists and let out a deep breath. “No rules….”
“No rules.” The woman in the coat affirmed. She reached up and removed her coat, tossing it aside for now as she rolled her shoulders, loosening up. She was bigger than Morgan. Lean, feminine muscle that most men would still probably be envious of.
Morgan tightened her fists as she waited to see what would happen next as she found herself about ready to face off with ten more in the gauntlet. Nine other students, lead by the very one who had managed to ingrain it into her head the previous evening on what the key to progressing through this trial was. No rules. That individual, of course, being none other than her coach, Connor MacNamara’s cousin. The Godkiller, Aella Foley….
To Be Continued….
