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Deadly Roses	By : Shinkansen Category: +M through R > Rumble Roses Views: 4849 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Rumble Roses, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Fight 3: Dixie vs. Evil Rose
In the staging area behind the curtain at the top of the entrance ramp, Dixie Clemets watched as the young Candy Cane, supported by a ring girl on one side and Anesthesia on the other. The rocker's eyes had taken on a vacant, staring look. Dixie had watched on the monitor as Candy fought viciously to reach Anesthesia; breaking free, Candy had rushed the nurse. A ring girl tossed Anesthesia a syringe, and Anesthesia deftly injected it into Candy's neck. The sedative was clearly taking effect, and Dixie could only hope that the youngster could recover from the shock of seeing her teacher and lover burned like a chicken on a barbeque. She couldn't believe Anesthesia had the gall to even be so close to her traumatized victim.
For her part, Dixie wasn't nearly as bothered as she thought she'd be. She clearly wasn't as bothered as her rival Aisha, who had refused to watch the last match and had spent the entire time in the shower in her dressing room. Dixie could hardly blame her- Aisha was a soft city girl, and she'd roughed that ninja chick up but good. Growing up on a ranch, Dixie was used to blood and butchery. What she'd seen so far hadn't been any worse than what she'd seen done to chickens and cows. And this wasn't her first experience with human death.
After Rumble Roses XX, Dixie's life fell apart. Without the payoff from that tournament, she had to mortgage the ranch, and eventually foreclosed. She was wrestling in smaller and smaller venues, the bouts becoming less about the theatrics and more about the violence. But after Rumble Roses, fighting had lost its challenge; the women she fought were jobbers, nobodies, and she pretty much did with them as she pleased.
One night, about a year ago, she was wrestling near Jasper, Missouri in a place generously described as a toilet. At this point in her life, she was getting buzzed regularly before shows on malt liquor, and was sitting on an open toilet in the dressing room, a half-empty bottle in her hands, when she was approached by a well-dressed middle-aged woman.
"One of my former... employees is carded to fight you tonight," the woman said. From her purse, she withdrew a roll of hundred dollar bills. She peeled half of them off and handed them to the 3 Count Cowgirl. "This is for you, if you can arrange it for an... accident to happen tonight. Whatever else happens, I do not want my girl to leave the ring alive tonight."
Dixie stared up with bleary eyes. She thought of her time with Aisha, and with Reiko Hinomoto, and how they had held crowds of thousands enthralled. Then she thought of last week, and the disgusting, filthy dick she'd had in her mouth in exchange for enough gas to make it here. Lowering her eyes, she reached up and snatched the money from the older woman's hands.
That night, before the police arrived, she was long gone.
The blaring intro riff of her old entrance music snapped her back to the present. Shaking her head, her tawny blond hair waving around her, the black and white cowgirl outfit hugging tight in all the right places, she pushed through the curtain and raised both arms above her head, her fists pumping the air. It was the biggest crowd she'd seen in years. They were all cheering, and the old emotions swam over her again. She was elated, felt like she might just float down that entrance ramp. She was ready. She'd already traded a stranger's life for two grand. Tack a few more zeroes on the end, she was sure she could do it again.
In the ring, she waited for her opponent. She tested the canvas (a new one had been brought in after the last match), tested the ring ropes. They appeared to be ordinary cables, but had been drawn almost to their snapping point through the turnbuckles. There was almost no give in them at all. She made a note to keep her rope moves to a minimum.
With a roar, the crowd drew her attention to her opponent. Shackled to a chain-link fence, clad from head to toe in skin-tight red leather, was the legendary Evil Rose. Her red suit gleamed under the lights, and her pointed devil tail was wrapped around her slender waist like a makeshift belt. The full-head mask, with only openings for her mouth and eyes, had two small devil horns atop it. Rose gave a few suggestive thrusts of her hips as she strained against her bonds. Then, with a quick snap, she broke free and fell to the ramp. Running full tilt, she vaulted herself over the ropes and landed in front of Dixie, giving a low growl.
Wasting no time, the woman dove for Dixie's legs. She sidestepped quickly, giving the leather-clad woman a heavy palm to the back of her head. Rose stumbled and shook her head, her purple hair visible from underneath her mask. With another growl, she rounded on Dixie, faking her out with a left and connecting solidly across her face with a right.
Dixie saw stars and felt the warm trickle of blood down her lip. With a growl of her own, she struck back, feeling her fist connect solidly underneath Rose's right breast. Opening her hand into a claw, she grabbed a handful of leather teat and twisted, stepping behind quickly to deliver a Russian leg sweep. From there, she rolled over on top of Rose and brought her up in a quick camel clutch.
She pulled Rose back, her hands clasped around her chin. Rose arched back, her breasts pointing out towards the audience, bouncing and swaying as the she-devil writhed and struggled to escape.
"Give it up, darlin," said Dixie, "Or I'll break your fuckin' spine. I don't wanna kill you but I will if I have to. Now what's it gonna be?"
Rose had managed to work her arms behind her. Flailing for purchase, she grabbed Dixie's enormous breasts and dug in hard, feeling her nails sink into the soft flesh. Dixie screamed and let up just a fraction, and that was all Rose needed. She kicked out of the hold and rolled away.
Dixie had rolled over on her stomach, her right arm clasped across her heaving breasts. Blood flowed from several deep scratches, spattering onto the canvas.
"That's it, you gimp-suit wearing bitch," she growled. "I'll kill you!" Rose shook her head, as if trying to clear it.
"Must... protect... sister," she intoned monotonously. "Must... care for... Reiko."
Dixie shook her own head vigorously. "You mean... Reiko's here? Where?"
"Unkown," Rose replied. "I cannot find her."
"Well that bein' the case," Dixie said, "for Reiko's sake I won't kill ya. But if you pull any more sucker moves like that titty twister, I swear you'll leave this place on a stretcher." Rose nodded.
Slowly, the two wrestlers approached one another, their arms raised. They clasped hands, and began to struggle for the advantage. They pressed closer and closer, their sweat-coated bodies rubbing against each other. Dixie could feel the hot leather of Rose's breasts rubbing against her own, and even in the pain she felt pleasure. Rose's knee was pressed against her crotch, and she felt her pussy moistening up even as she locked eyes with Rose and saw the same passion reflected there. Then Rose's eyes narrowed and she lunged forward with a headbutt. Dixie reacted instantly, moving her own head so that the two fighters merely exchanged glancing blows.
"Bitch!" she screamed, shoving Rose's head between her leads and pulling her up into the air. Her face was inches from Rose's crotch, and she could smell the arousal of the other woman. This only increased her anger, and with all the force she could muster, she drove the other woman straight down in a devastating pile driver.
She rolled Rose onto her back and, hooking her leg, put her in a pinning position. Dixie could see the other woman's eyes had crossed and her tongue lolled out. Bending down, she whispered in the other woman's ear.
"It's over darlin'. Give up. I can look after Reiko, and you can help." Rose stayed unmoving. Dixie counted three seconds, ten seconds, and there was no bell. She tried again, placing her knees on Rose's shoulders. Again, no bell. She got angrily to her feet.
"God dammit," she screamed at the arena, turning circles looking for some official, someone. All she saw were cheering, jeering fans. She screamed again, her voice tinged with hysteria. "Gaawd Daaaammmit!" she wailed, tearing at her blond hair. "How am I supposed to win? She went over to the empty announce table and grabbed the house mic.
"Anesthesia you cow! Lady X, whoever the hell's in charge git your ass down here!" she pointed to the ground next to her. "Your damn rules didn't say nothin' about havin' to be savages to win. I beat your bitch here fair and square... now ring the goddamn bell!" She dropped the mic and went to pin Rose, only to be dropped in her tracks as a recovered Rose floored her with a flying clothesline.
Dixie's head swam, and she felt like she might vomit. Her jaw was shooting with pain; even trying to open her mouth was unbearable. She felt herself being lifted into the air, Rose's arms encircling her waist and pulling tighter and tighter. Her breasts flopped obscenely on Rose's face, and Dixie could feel her hot breath against her skin in short, sharp pants.
Dixie tried to breathe in, but it was like she was being crushed under a concrete slab. She clenched her teeth, even against the pain in her jaw, and pounded on Rose's head ineffectually. She felt Rose cinch the hold up even tighter, and there was a wet snap in her right side as a rib went, and she screamed in pain, even though it cost her precious air. She heard Rose moan in ecstasy as the cowgirl writhed in pain, saw her tilt her head back and wail as an obvious and explosive orgasm rocked her leather clad body. Their eyes locked again- Dixie's wide with agony, Rose's wide with pleasure. Acting on instinct, seeing an irresistible target, Dixie plunged her thumb straight down into Rose's left eye, sinking all the way into the knuckle.
Rose let her go and doubled over, her screams of pleasure turning into screams of pain. Blood flowed freely from her now-empty eye socket. Dixie then whipped Rose away from her, into the ropes.
Rose started her run doubled over, because of her eye. She felt her head catch between the second and top ropes, and felt her body swing up and over, twisting the second rope up over the third. Immediately pain as she had never felt before ripped through her skull. The tightly wound cables dug into the flesh at either side of her neck, and she felt the intense pressure on either side of her neck making her giddy. She pulled at the ropes as hard as she could, and suddenly felt strong hands grasp her own, helping to pull the ropes apart...
Dixie stared in shock as Evil Rose became entangled in those steel cable ropes. Her body kicked and squirmed pitifully, trying to free her head. Dixie rushed over to the ropes, and saw Rose's struggles were becoming feebler. She reached down and tried to help prize the ropes apart. Setting her feet, she pulled with all her might. The toned muscles in her shoulders and arms stood out like cords, her legs, absorbing the strain, bunched up too. She gritted her teeth as sweat poured down her face, her lacerated breasts wobbled as she struggled to free her enemy. She could already see where two deep gashes had been torn into Rose's neck; the ropes were already slick with her life's blood.
Then it happened. Her hand slipped on the rope, and the two ropes came together. With a low crunch, she saw the bottom rope dig into Rose's windpipe, crushing it instantly. Rose looked up pitifully, tears streaming from both her good eye and the empty socket. She made a low gurgling sound as their eyes locked again, Rose's pain and loss stabbing to the very center of Dixie's being.
"Oh darlin' I'm sorry!" Dixie said. "I'll find Reiko, if I can. I swear." She had no idea if Rose heard. Her eye had already taken on a far-away look, and her skin had turned an angry red, then finally a deep blue. Dixie saw a spreading wet patch at the leather woman's crotch, saw the costume beneath the tail bulge outward as her bowels emptied. Her hands fell limply from the ropes.
Without even that faint resistance, the ropes pulled even tighter. Rose's blood still flowed as the ropes pressed tighter and tighter, ripping more skin from her neck. With a crunch and a splatter, the ropes snapped back, flinging her body onto the steel ground and her head into the center of the ring.
Limping from her broken rib, Dixie stood in the center of the ring as the crowd erupted into fresh cheers. Her face was covered in Rose's blood, and she felt her jaw swelling from the clothesline. The cheers revived her, and as much as she hated these people for what they were watching, she was compelled to pander to them as well. She would still find Reiko, and still find out whom, if anyone was in control of this bloodbath. But for now, she had the crowd in her hand. This was what made her feel alive. She picked up Rose's head and, holding it tenderly, gave it a long and probing kiss. The crowed cheered even louder. Grinning, one hand raised in the Victory sign, the other holding the severed head, she turned in a full circle, giving everybody one good look, and began walking back up the ramp.
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Deadly Roses