The Small Giant

[WARNING: Chapter might be a bit… graphic.]

The minimum pain level that a Fighter could register was 40%.

However, it was highly frowned upon for Fighters to use this level- in fact, the only reason that the minimum level was so low, was because the Club wanted to ensure that the new fighters could have time to become accustomed to their new bodies without becoming discouraged by the pain.

After their first fight, they would slowly but surely be influenced to raise their pain level to the standards that the Club preferred.

Because it was a proven fact that the audience would grow uninterested in seeing blood and gore when the people themselves weren't making a big deal out of it. One had to ask themselves- why was blood and gore so entertaining? It was because seeing others suffer brought a special kind of thrill that no other sight could summon.

Without suffering, there really was no point in watching a death match- unless of course, it was to admire someone's fight moves. But if the audience members wanted that, then why couldn't they just order a martial arts movie?

And so it was an unwritten rule in the Fight Club that only the newbies could use the minimum pain level, though the people who fought against them were allowed to respond in kind.

The Smiling Demon was an extremist- she was obsessed with pain, and so in her normal matches she always had her pain level set to 100%.

This made her an extremely popular fighter, though the audience members rarely bet on her. They loved watching her fight because her reactions were interesting, but her win-loss record was admittedly haphazard.

She came to this club to experience the beating of her dreams. She wanted to experience every second, and so she ran foreword to eagerly absorb every punch. This place was her hidden playground.

It was only when something threatened to end her good time, that the Smiling Demon showed exactly why she was called a demon.

Today was one such day. Upon learning that she was going to be fighting a Fresh Blood, the Smiling Demon's annoyance had skyrocketed. She hated fighting Fresh Bloods, because they rarely gave her a good time. She had grown to resent them in a way- those Fight Club virgins who came here to find whatever it was that they thought they were lacking.

Ironically enough, it was this very resentment that made the Club so eager to match her against the Fresh Bloods in the first place. It was a good business decision for them, because the Smiling Demon always showed the audience a good time while also demonstrating to the newcomers how they could manipulate and interpret the Club rules.

The red-haired Demon liked abusing her body when she fought. She often cut into her hands (or various other body parts) before a match, and then broke her bones so she could use the jagged weapons to stab her opponent.

Fresh Bloods never truly understood what having these new bodies meant in a fight. It wasn't their fault, but it was something that they had to quickly adjust to if they wanted to stay in a Fight Club.

For instance, in the afterlife they no longer needed to breathe. This meant that it wasn't possible for them to become winded, or for strangleholds to work properly- and so while the throat could still be a target when properly utilized, it was no longer as big of a weak point anymore.

Same with the head. While multiple punches could still disorient a person (depending on the pain levels a person chose), it was now exceedingly rare for a person to be knocked unconscious. The main reason that Fighters still attacked the face, was so that they could destroy their opponent's senses.

And so this phenomenon begged the question- how could someone win?

Through blood loss.

That was the only way that these bodies would cease to function. Though interestingly enough, if the pain level was high enough then the user could still go into shock.

But even the Smiling Demon, who usually set her pain level to the Max, rarely experienced shock due to pain. Though she was indeed an unusual case, as she was extremely accustomed to pain these days...

This battle almost felt like a tickle fight when compared to her usual matches.

In order to maximize the torment of this poor Fresh Blood, the Smiling Demon had intentionally set her pain level to 40%. An eye for an eye after all: if she wasn't going to be able to enjoy this match, then neither was her opponent.

She had entered this arena with multiple fractured bones, held together only by an excessive amount of gauze and a disturbing amount of pain tolerance.

She had intended to beat this poor Fresh Blood senseless, and then after breaking the bones in her limbs, she had planned on slowly cutting up the Small Giant in front of the audience while relishing the sight of her bleeding to death.

But halfway through the match, the Smiling Demon had to admit that she began to get curious.

She was a regular at this Fight Club, as well as many other unscrupulous Clubs where she could indulge in her love of pain. Because of this experience, she was able to quickly realize just how brutal the Small Giant was.

Every single attack of hers was calculated. At the beginning of their fight she stayed on the defensive, and so this trait was not immediately obvious- but she never allowed herself to be cornered, and whenever the Smiling Demon pressed too close, she retaliated using the least amount of effort possible. The first time she bit on a particular nerve in her neck that caused her to lose all strength in her left arm, and the following time she struck at her face and caused a scratch to appear on the surface of her right eye and cheek.

These attacks alone weren't enough to really impress the Smiling Demon, but the second the Small Giant crowded close and dislocated her knee joint, well… that certainly caught her attention.

And as the Smiling Demon fell to her knees, she couldn't help but silently mourn the fact that she could barely feel it.

Because it would have felt delicious.

The Small Giant then grabbed her hair without an ounce of mercy, and forced her to bare her throat. This subservient position had the red-haired woman's eyes dilating, and after her opponent broke her trachea, the Smiling Demon couldn't help but instinctively submit to her.

She allowed herself to be pushed onto her back, and allowed herself to be pinned as the Small Giant mounted her, and attacked with the intent to incapacitate.

The pain was dull, but the Smiling Demon couldn't help but moan because she knew just how wonderful this situation would have been like had she not chosen to dull her sense of pain…

But she didn't allow herself to indulge for long. After all, despite what she would have preferred, the Smiling Demon was still unable to really feel any significant pain. The fact that she could have been experiencing bliss at this moment- but WASN'T… really ticked her off.

She only had herself to blame, and so the Smiling Demon started unraveling the gauze around her left hand while the Small Giant was focused elsewhere. She decided that it was time for her to retaliate, and play with this new little toy of hers.

Afterword she'd be able to sign up for another fight, and then she could experience the bliss that she was currently missing. Who knew- maybe this feisty little thing would agree to a rematch~

The Small Giant's positioning was well executed. Her lower body was practically useless because of the position of the Small Giant's legs, while her forearm was pressing down below her neck to keep her shoulders nailed to the floor.

When the Smiling Demon moved to retaliate, the Small Giant would have been able to feel it.

And so the Smiling Demon took her time. She slowly moved her hand until it was brushing up against her opponent's thigh, and she left it there until her opponent once again lowered her guard.

And then she aimed for her artery, and stabbed.

⧗

Sara came here to feel alive.

She came here to remember that she was still human.

And despite the awkward orgasm that she had likely given the woman underneath her, Sara felt happy to admit that this had been a very successful day overall.

Because this desperation, this feeling of PAIN that sizzled through her leg and across her body, left Sara reeling with the primal need to SURVIVE.

Sara reached down to grab the Smiling Demon's hand, and held it against her leg so she could keep the bone sheathed in her wound. She did this in order to keep herself from bleeding out too much, and to also keep the Smiling Demon from stabbing her again.

She had to hurry, before she lost too much blood.

Sara had noticed at the beginning of the match that the Smiling Demon had wrapped her hands oddly, but she never would have thought that she was hiding such a macabre shank inside those wrappings.

Her right hand had the same wrappings.

Sara eyed her opponents right hand, and struck when she saw it aiming at her other leg. She grabbed it, and though the bone still punctured her skin, she was luckily strong enough to keep it from pushing foreword too deeply. While pushing against the Smiling Demon's attack, she squirmed her fingers into the disgusting mess of her opponent's hand, and gripped the bone that was trying to impale her. She had to manipulate it, push and pull it against the tissue muscles around the joint, but eventually she broke it off, and then yanked it away from herself so she could use it to stab her opponent.

But how could the Smiling Demon let her get away with that? She used her mangled hand as a shield, and gripped Sara's attacking hand in order to yank her down so she could rip out a chunk of her flesh with her teeth.

Sara grit her teeth together, and then reared back, trying to ignore the feeling of her flesh being ripped open, before headbutting the woman underneath her.

It caused her more damage then her opponent (in fact it almost caused her to blackout from the pain), but Sara's desperate strength had allowed her a single moment where her opponent was disoriented.

And through the tears falling down her face, the primal fear in her body allowed her an unnatural moment of focus as she aimed.

About 45 degrees from the nape of the neck, on both the right and left side, was the Carotid artery. This was the artery that, when cut in the movies, caused a massive blood spray that would douse the murderer and make them look like the psychopaths.

Sara jammed the bone into that very artery on the Smiling Demon's throat, and then ripped it out without a shred of hesitation. She then threw herself off of the Smiling Demon, and rolled away like a graceless log as she desperately hacked at her hands with the bone so she could unravel the gauze, and shakily made a makeshift tourniquet around her leg.

And as Sara's fake heartbeat pounded in her ears, she stared at the blackening ceiling above her head, and told herself to hang on.

After being stabbed in the carotid artery, especially as brutally and precisely as Sara had struck, her opponent should bleed out within 2 minutes. She hoped at least.

She was also stabbed in an artery however- and so all Sara could do was hope that she could last longer then her opponent.

A few more seconds…

Just..

A few…

mOre

sEcONds

"I almost can't believe it everyone! The victor in this fight is- our Fresh Blood! THE SMALL GIANT!"

Sara could barely hear the roaring of the crowd over the sound of her blood pounding through her ears.

The Small Giant smiled, and then her eyes closed and she heard no more.