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Can't. Fucking. Breathe.
Well, shit. My legs are slowly buckling.
As the darkness swallows me, I know for a fact that this move is hard as fuck to pull off, and it really doesn't have any way of countering the hold. I don't know where he fucking learned this, but this move fucking sucks.
I can't break free and I am going to lose to this fucking pile of human shit.
No.
I slowly begin to rise, I use whatever strength in my wrecked body I have left.
I want this, I want to win.
I don't care if it kills me, I’m going to break this bitch.
I can't hear the crowd anymore or the shouting of our coaches. I hear blood in my head pounding, now or never.
Raising up, I can feel him still using my own arm to choke me, cutting off what little amount of oxygen I had in me. I slowly stand and the fading of my vision is getting worse. I can only see Ethan's face, his eyes wide as I raise him higher and higher. I am doing what all those work safety videos tell you not to do, I am lifting this fucker up with my back.
This is going to hurt in the morning.
Standing up straight, I have Ethan looking down into my eyes with pure terror. My breathing is much easier now as all his weight is on top of my shoulders. I grin for just a moment, his legs are up, over my shoulders and I now have the one break I know of that can defeat this.
Now it’s my turn.
I swing forward with all my strength as I slam his back and head hard into the mat. I pull free for a moment then dive straight for his face, swinging.
One punch. Two punches.
Now the ref is pushing me to the side and off of a completely knocked out Ethan. I think he went out when he landed, but those extra punches certainly helped.
I slump to my knees, trying to draw air into my oxygen deprived lungs.
Fuck me.
Dale comes rushing into the cage as soon as he is able to. I struggle to my feet as he rushes to me. “Chase, you need the medics?”
I shake my head and wrap an arm around my waist. I’m fucking hurting.
The next two minutes are a blur as they get me to my side of the cage while they check on Ethan. The medics come in and they quickly have Ethan assessed. He nods to them a couple of times and then with assistance from a few people, stands for the verdict.
The ref raises my hand in the air as I grunt. That fucking rib still hurts but I can breathe a bit better. I feel buzzed, I feel another surge of adrenaline. I fucking won.
“And the winner and still heavyweight champion by knockout! Chase 'the REAPERRRRR' Winters!”
I do a quick turn around and wave to the crowd as I hear my Reaper chanted over and over.
Mark, the commentator, stands next to me and begins the post-fight interview. “Wow! Chase that has to be the best ending to a fight I have ever seen! You went past the point most would tap out and kept on going.”
“Thanks, Mark. I wasn't positive I was going to win once he got me in the triangle. By the time I finally had him up and ready to slam, I don't think I was fully there.”
“That... just wow Chase, that was amazing. So this is the second fight in four months. Are you going to take a well-earned break before your next challenger?”
I get a wide smile on my face as I shake my head, “Nah, Mark. I don't think it’s going to be like that. See this was my last fight. I'm officially retiring as of let’s see... As soon as I leave the cage.”
I pat Mark on the shoulder. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen. I was serious with him though. I was done the moment my hand was raised in victory.
I leave him there as the crowd goes silent for nearly a full minute. It's almost surreal as I look around the cage and see a stunned Ethan staring at me. Fuck, everyone one around me seems at a loss except snickering Dale. Only he knew and Dad knew, I told them as soon as I made my decision.
