My Forearm Collided With Her Jaw

 

My Forearm Collided With Her Jaw

By Christian L Adams

     A pro-wrestling themed short story about two longstanding rivals, a botched tournament, and an untimely concussion. 

2400 words.
 

    My forearm collided with her jaw. There was a pop as her tooth bit into her lower lip, splitting the flesh. The force sent her stumbling back where she wiped her lip and smiled at me as the blood dribbled onto her chest.

“That it?” She asked. I responded with a slap to the face. I threw it with such force that the sweat evaporated from her skin on contact.

    I was winded, but she didn’t give me a chance. Her elbow nailed me in the side of the head. My ears rang, briefly, but mostly I was dizzy. Before I could open my eyes another elbow made contact. I went down.

    She hooked my leg and pinned me right there in the middle of the ring, as was the planned finish. The crowd roared at the sight of her victory. I was delirious, but I remember her squeezing my hand, and I squeezed back to signal I was okay.

“The winner of the 4th annual MPW contender’s tournament is Ashley Wednesday!”

…

    The sound of the shower was very rough on my hearing that night. It did nothing but aggravate the ringing. When someone else entered, I jumped.

“Ash?”

“Yeah?”

    It was my victorious opponent that night. I turned to see her touching her split lip, which looked like it had started bleeding again. The blood spattered onto the floor and mixed with the clean water. That was when she started sobbing.

“Hey…” I said. I went over to her. She had sat on the floor against the wall, letting the water run over her head. “It’s just a lip, they can stitch it.”

“It’s not just a lip. I mean, this is, but that’s not what I’m upset about.”

    I wrapped my arm around her. “What is it, then?”

“I think my career is about over.”

“You? No way, you’re only 26. You have like 10 years left at least.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” she started sobbing again. “I don’t remember your name…” she buried her face in her hands.

    I was astonished. “It’s Liz. You really don’t remember?”

“I remember you, just not your name. There’s something seriously wrong.” She tapped the side of her head. “In here.”

“You shouldn’t go through with that title match.”

    She shook her head. “I have to. At least that one last match. I can’t quit right at the end.”

“We’ll talk to Amanda. You don’t have to go through with it. They can take you out. I could replace you. I don’t think the fans would be that upset after our match we just had.” I didn’t want to replace her at all. In fact I think it would make me feel awful.

    She shook her head again. “One last match can’t hurt.”

…

    The main event that night was Ashley Wednesday vs A. Crusher. A. Crusher was the tank of MPW, and the champion.

I watched Ash get in the ring opposite of Crusher. Now, Crusher was actually a really nice person, if she knew about Ash’s condition she would call the match off.

It took one hit to Ash’s head for me to grab a chair and ‘go into business for myself’. But It wasn’t for my sake I was doing this. This was completely off script. This could get me blacklisted in any fed across the inner solar system.

I swung the chair into Crusher’s back. Since it was off-script she didn’t react. Instead, she swung her arm at me and took me out with a lariat. A real lariat, and it hurt like one, not that the regular ones didn’t hurt like hell too.

It led to the intended result though, Ash was disqualified. That meant she could get out of here and get home. At least for the night.

Chaos erupted in the crowd because they believed that was the planned finish. If it had been I would have been pissed too.

…

    I stepped back behind the curtain where Amanda immediately confronted me. “What are you doing! What did you do! You’ll never wrestle on this planet again, Liz, you unprofessional piece of…”

“Ash has a head injury!” I yelled. Amanda froze. “She wouldn’t tell you. I did what I had to.”

    After a moment, Amanda waved for the doctor. “Go look at Ash!” He nodded and ran off to find her.

“I’m sorry.” I said to Amanda.

    She was biting her nail, deep in thought. “No… you did good, Liz. You did the best thing you could do at the time. I don’t hold it against you.”

“Thank you, ‘Manda.”

“Go home for the night. I’ll call you in the morning to talk about the next step.”

“The next step?”

“Well yeah, this story sort of wrote itself, didn’t it?”

…

    I stepped out into the red, dusty streets of New Spokane, Mars and was halfway back to my apartment when I got a text from Ash.

‘Hey. Still loopy. At the hospital. Sorry…’

‘Ash don’t be sorry.’

‘I screwed up the feud, I screwed up the tourney.’

‘Not quite… I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’

‘Please come to the hospital. I don’t want to be alone.’

…

I burst through the front doors of New Spokane general and marched straight to the front desk. “I’m looking for Ash We… er, I’m looking for Ashley Martin. I’m a coworker.”

    The lady looked me over. “Room 412.”

“Thank you!”

    I pushed the door open to the room, avoiding being quiet because she shouldn’t be sleeping with a concussion anyway. If that’s what it was.

“Liz…” Ash laid on the bed, fresh stitches in her lip, all the lights off in the room. “They’re doing a CT at some point during the night. I don’t know what else.” I saw her look out the window, toward downtown.

"Ash… just let me know what I can do."

She smiled and beckoned me closer. I leaned in real close, and she kissed me on the cheek. I leaned further in and rested my hand on her shoulder. She eventually pulled away.

I couldn't have hid my smile if I'd tried. "You were going over in that match, weren't you? You were winning that title."

"Yeah."

"Oh God, Ash, I'm so s…"

"Thank you."

I looked up from the floor. "You're thanking me?"

"I'm done being sorry. I'm being thankful now."

They made me wait in the room during the scan. I remember she was gone for about an hour, so I was pulling up clip after clip of her old matches. She was the toughest woman I'd ever seen get in the ring.

There was a match that was about 8 years old, from July 2112. I'd actually broken her neck in that one after a nasty move off the second rope. She was out for a year, and when she came back the fans wanted her to draw my blood. So she did.

Her big return match was at the arena. A few minutes into the match she rolled out of the ring and grabbed a pair of scissors before slicing my forehead open. I must've bled a bucket's worth that night. Unfortunately, I smashed my leg on a guard rail during the match and was stretchered off. I remember Ash was really apologetic, and that she kissed me in the locker room after. She got blood all over her lips that night.

Some really awful thoughts started to run through my head. Like what would happen if she got really hurt. What would I do? And what if it was my fault?

Tears started to form in my eyes. I was filled with this deep sadness. It was all too possible. I could really see it happening.

I got up and went to the bathroom and shut the door. That's where I sunk into the corner. I couldn't stop crying at the thoughts running through my head.

"Damn it, Liz… get it together." Whatever match I had coming up, I was going to go out there and put myself through hell. I calmed myself down and walked out of the bathroom right as they came back.

"We're back," the nurse said as she wheeled my friend back into the room. "It's a very minor concussion. She can leave whenever you're ready."

I quickly tried to dry my eyes. "You're coming back to my place," I said. She seemed happy about that.

    I unlocked my apartment door and pushed it open. Gently I led Ash to the bed where she sat down. She was clearly still dizzy. “Thanks,” she said when I handed her a glass of water.

“Sit there a minute.”

    She nodded.

    I ran to the closet and opened it up, looking for my notebooks. I had to be up all night anyway to keep Ash awake.

    I sat down at my desk and laid out some of my old notebooks. They contained old ideas for a follow-up feud with Ash. We never got the chance because Amanda moved her to a new thing when I went out with the leg injury.

    It involved me putting her out with… oh no… I was going to put her out with a head injury in storyline and replace her in a title match. That’s… exactly what was about to happen. It makes all the difference when it actually happens.

    I looked over at Ash who was dozing. That was fine for a little while.

…

    The following morning, following interrupted sleep for both of us, Ash and I headed down to the arena. Amanda let us in the back door and sat us down.

“How are you feeling, Ash?” She asked.

“Better than yesterday.”

“Good, good…” she was already looking down at her ideas. “I’d like to get into it if you don’t mind,” she cleared her throat. “Liz is replacing you in the tournament, putting her in the title match. I’ve worked your little attack into the angle too.”

“With the chair?” I asked.

“Yep, and I have bullet points for your promo here.”

    I looked them over. Jealousy… okay. It made sense. We were always rivals on screen. I was to explain the concussion to the crowd, and then…

“‘Manda, I can’t do this.”

“What is it, Liz?” Ash asked.

“I can’t go out there, in front of all those people, and say I gave her that concussion on purpose.”

“Liz, this is a golden opportunity. We’re making something real out of something awful. We could set you up as the biggest heel in MPW.”

“I don’t know… what do you think, Ash?”

“I think it’ll be fun.”

“Really?”

    Amanda cut in. “Not to mention you’ll be taking the title instead.”

I jumped in my seat. “What!?”

“We’re putting the title on you. Like I said, you’ll be the biggest heel in MPW.”

…

    The night came for my match. The hardest part was right before.

“Not to mention, I gave her that injury on purpose! Of my own free will!” The crowd was spitting venom at me. I heard a lot of words I’m not going to repeat. Unsurprisingly, a paper cup of beer flew from the crowd and hit me on the top of my head. There was a split second where I wanted to beat someone down, but I remembered an old show I’d seen, and proceeded to slick the beer through my hair like a jerk. They booed me even louder for that.

“Sick Liz!” Crusher yelled from the entrance ramp. “Your words make me sick to my stomach. Every time I think about what you did to Ash, I get sick to my stomach!”

“Want to get your hands on me, Crusher? Do ya?” I beckoned for her to come closer. “You’d better put that title on the line!”

    Crusher thrusted the belt into the hands of the referee and called for the bell. It rang, and immediately Crusher had her big arms wrapped around my head. I went for a gut shot and hit her so hard she choked.

    I was prepared for this. Crusher and I went over the plan earlier in the day. I had my blade in my wrist tape. When I took a chop to the face, I went down and quickly sliced my forehead with the tiny razor blade.

    When I got back up, blood was streaming from my face, mixing with sweat. It stung for a moment before reality set back in and I forearmed Crusher until she collapsed. The crowd roared. Just a few minutes ago they wanted to kill me. Now they were eating out of my hands.

“Come on, Crusher!” I yelled as the crowd cheered. “Come on, Crusher!” The crowd cheered again.

    She hit me with her trademark lariat. I don’t know exactly what happened but I landed on my stomach. I must have rotated at least once. She applied a leg lock, hyper-extending my knee and ankle. Obviously she was doing a less severe version, but it hurt real, real bad.

    I slapped her in the face. I slapped her in the face so hard I thought I watched her eyes roll back. That was when she released the hold. We both got up and I suplexed her into the corner. After rolling her to the middle of the ring, I pinned her.

    It took a few moments to set in. The crowd was loud, and I was in a lot of pain. I got to my feet and the referee shoved the title into my hands. He tried to raise my hand but I threw him off as a show of force.

    Basking in the cheers was nice but I needed to get backstage.

“Where’s Ash!” I yelled as I came through the curtain.

“Over here!” She was sitting with Crusher and Amanda.

     Crusher got up and slapped me on the arm before flashing a big smile. “Good Work.”

    I watched her walk away, and turned back to Ash. “Did you see me? Did you see that slap?”

“You were amazing, Liz!”

“This is the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m taking that title off of you this fall.”

“You are?” I turned to Amanda. “Do you know about this?”

“It’s not a sure thing, but yes, Ash gave me your notebooks. You really had a whole feud planned out without telling me?”

“Well sure. There’s nobody I want to get beat by more than Ash here.”

“Okay, It’s a done deal then. When Ash gets better, we'll start."

END