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Round Three


Jill Lovelace versus McMahon John Crichton versus Acolyte

Jill Lovelace versus McMahon

Alexi leaned against the wall to one of the tunnels that lead the spectators to their seats. "This looks like a good place to watch the fight," he thought, "I wonder whose turn it is anyway?" As if answering his question two figures appeared at opposite ends of the arena, Jill Lovelace and McMahon. His jaw dropped.

Down inside the arena Jill was equally surprised, and disgusted. "Why him?" she asked herself. As she bent down toward her bag of weapons a thought popped into her head, "Did Alexi tell him to forfeit as well?" She thought about that for a while, "Maybe. . . but just to be on the save side." She reached her hand into the bag and grabbed the handle to her grenade launcher. She waited for the signal from Sandman to begin.

The arm went up, then it came back down, and the match begun. McMahon immediately ran into a sprint toward his opponent. "I guess Alexi forgot," Jill concluded as she pulled out her weapon. She had already preloaded the weapon with all her acid rounds and so she just let them fly down the field. McMahon easily dodged the acid rounds without falling out of stride. Before long Jill had run out of ammo. When McMahon heard the intensive clicking of the trigger of an empty weapon he leapt into the air. He landed right behind Jill and was about ready to attack when she whipped around and smacked him in the face with the butt-end of her grenade launcher.

Jill surprised herself when McMahon fell to the ground. "That was pure instinct," she thought as she stared at the newly broken weapon. She let go of the pieces, thereby letting them fall to the ground, and went to get her submachine gun. As she acquired the gun from her bag, McMahon acted. He quickly swept his feet under Jill's, continued the maneuver in order to get into a crouching pose, and, before Jill hit the ground, he punched her into a nearby wall. Alexi, on the other hand, had moved from the tunnel to the closest railing that he could find. He gripped the thing until his knuckles turned white. “What is he doing?" he thought, "Is this just an act, or is this something more?" He felt his heart rate increase, "If he hurts her. . ."

Jill awoke to find herself in a little broom closet. She was currently facing a huge hole that lead to the inside arena, and she was most certain that her head was currently resting on the door. As she came into full consciousness she was surprised that she was still holding her gun. "Well at least there's some good luck for a change," she thought as she aimed the gun at the hole in the wall. "Now, if I want this to work I should stay put," she smiled, "Hopefully McMahon still thinks I'm down." She waited for a few more seconds and then she saw a figure that eclipsed the outside. She immediately pulled the trigger to the gun and three rounds jumped out of the barrel. She saw that all three bullets hit their target and that the target was sent flying out into the field. Jill quickly jumped to her feet, switched the gun to its machinegun mode, and ran back into the field. As she got out she found McMahon lying on his back with blood pouring out of his chest. "Give up," Jill ordered. McMahon slowly turned the corners of his mouth upward and formed a crude smile. So Jill pulled the trigger to her weapon, moved the barrel half and inch on her view point of McMahon’s right leg, and blew out his knee cap. McMahon gave a small grunt of discomfort as blood shot up into the air but nothing else. "Fine," Jill said as she aimed her gun at McMahon’s head, "I'm sure Alexi won't lose too much sleep if I kill you then." Before she pulled the trigger she muttered, "I never liked you anyway." As her finger moved to depress on the trigger McMahon said, "Neither do I." He quickly used his hands to push himself off of the ground and onto his remaining leg. Then he jumped into the air, and kicked Jill down the field. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Alexi shouted at McMahon as Jill bounced a few lengths down the field. Alexi jumped over the railway and ran down to the front row where he grabbed that railing. "This isn't good," he thought as both opponents fell to the fell to the ground.

After a few seconds of neither person moving Acolyte turned toward Sandman, "What now Father?" Sandman held his palm toward his son, "Hush. This is getting good."

Jill awoke again to a pounding headache. "Damn, that hurt," she thought, "No wonder why Alexi joined up with him. How can McMahon lose if he keeps doing shit like that?" She looked around for her submachine gun. She was saddened to find that the weapon was bent. “Probably a result from the bouncing,” she thought. She turned her attention back to McMahon, who was currently still lying on the ground. "Perfect," she thought as she moved closer to him. As she moved she felt a cold breeze on her back. She looked up at the darkening clouds, "That's one huge ass storm coming," she thought as the clouds quickly approached, "It'd be romantic to be curled up with Alexi, all nice and warm, while it rained." She smiled as she turned to face McMahon. She took out her shotgun while she walked toward him. When she approached she aimed the gun in the middle of his forehead. Before she pulled the trigger she noticed that McMahon was smiling. "Now, why the hell is he doing that?" she asked herself.

Before she knew it she heard the sound of a shotgun being fired and felt intense pain in her arm. "Now you and Gustove are really made for each other, McMahon laughed as Jill stared horridly at the stump that once had been her hand. McMahon got up onto his recently healed legs and opened up his sawed off shotgun. He pulled out the spent cartridges and felt around his coat pocket. "Hmmm. . . it looks like I'm out of bullets, he bent over and picked up Jill's, "Do you mind?" Jill's response was repressed screams of pain. McMahon laughed as he took his sweet time in taking the bullets out of her shotgun and inserting them into his own. He slowly aimed his gun at her head. "Good night bitch," he whispered in her ear as he pulled the trigger. The sound was drowned out by the sound of thunder, but everyone knew the outcome when Jill's body slumped to the ground. It started to rain.

"You bastard!" came a Russian accented voice. Almost everyone in the arena was surprised to see Alexi jump into the field, "You son of a bitch! I TOLD YOU TO PROTECT HER, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" He ran throught the dampening field and punched McMahon in the face.

McMahon, who was obviously not affected by the punch, only laughed, "I told you that you shouldn't have gotten involved with her."

Alexi clasped his hands together and swung his whole body weight into the next punch. This caught McMahon off guard and sent him to the ground, "YOU KNEW THAT I LOVED HER! YOU KNEW!" He quickly got on top of him, started to punch him in the head, and was now shouting things in pure Russian. Before McMahon could retaliate, there was a flash of lightning and Alexi was pulled up off of his former ally. Acolyte stood there, holding Alexi by the hair. "Now, now. . . don't patronize the winner," he mocked, "It looks like it's time out for you." He flew into the air toward where Sandman was. He threw Alexi against the wall behind his father and he used his telepathy to make him stay up there, with his back pinned to the wall. "Now stay up there until you learn some manners." Alexi didn't say a word; he just let the tears flow from his eyes.

Outcome: McMahon wins and Jill loses. Jill: DEAD. McMahon: FINE.

John Crichton versus Acolyte

Stepping in for the fourth round of battle, John Crichton and the being that is now known as Acolyte move towards the center of the arena. Despite the heavy canvas in his arms, John Crichton is visibly moving with a new strength. The drain of fighting and lack of sleep now gone as adrenaline pumped through his veins as his last possible fight in life was almost at hand. His last possible fight with a monster that had killed some of the only remaining people who meant anything in the remains of his tattered life.

He stared at the thing that was formerly Carlos, his anger, hatred and rage all fueled into a gaze that would penetrate anyone on earth, and for a minute John thought he saw Carlos flinch. Sandman´s laugh broke into the deadly silence that was held over the entire arena. "Well my child, you have come to your final step in reaching the end of the road. Hurry this fight so that you may claim your prize all the sooner." Sandman laughed again, and chills ran down John´s spine. "Don't be so confident in your bastard child you son of a bitch. I´m coming for you." John wasted no more time with the hell spawn that he vaguely noticed continued taunting him. "Just fuck off." Any humor held by John was now long gone as he angrily set his gaze back on Acolyte, who was now laughing too.

"Whats funny you soulless son of a bitch. I´m going to fucking blow that grin off your deformed face." "What´s funny is that you honestly think that you can stop me and my father. We easily killed anyone you cared for, or even had a link to. Even that stupid cunt Karen. She tried to trick us, but she died as quickly as the others. You stand no chance. I flayed others as I think I´ll flay you." John didn’t wait for the fight to begin. He lifted his handguns "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BASTARD!" John screamed as he released shot after shot at Acolyte.

Acolyte easily twisted around each shot and listened as the resounding 10 shots were expelled into the air. "You see, its pointless. You cant possibly hurt..." Acolyte didn't finish as an explosion released in front of him, searing him and sending him hurtling back 6 feet through the air. John wasted no time as he reloaded the crossbow and released another arrow at Acolyte, as the arrow flew and exploded next to the monster again, tossing him into the air.

"I told you to shut up." John reminded. He cocked back another arrow but found the crossbow flying from his hands, an unimaginably strong invisible force tearing it from his hands. The crossbow exploded as the arrow self combusted, sending shrapnel through the air, a small piece tearing into John´s neck, and equally into Acolyte´s forehead, but the shard was unnoticed.

"Arrrgh." John flinched as he felt a piece of the shrapnel barely miss his jugular in a twist of luck. John didn't stop to feel sorry for him self, he drew his magnum and drew a line on his now moving opponent, the shock of the explosion slowing him enough for the bullet to fly from John´s gun and amazingly tear into the tough meat that was the acolyte´s flesh as the shear power of the weapon tore into Carlos´ midsection. Carlos didn't slow. Instead he dashed, and almost as fast John could blink, he found himself in the clawed grip of the Acolyte, held 3 feet into the air. "Listen you WEAK pathetic fool. Your attempts are wasted! I can not be killed!" Acolyte angrily yelled at his prisoner, his other hand holding his exposed wound. "Get over yourself." John gasped as he squeezed the trigger to his magnum, releasing another round at point blank range that tore into Acolyte´s stomach, the only thing keeping the bullet from collapsing Acolyte´s entire chest was the uncannily tough durability of the creature, and maybe his telekinesis.

John smiled as he realized something. Acolyte wasn´t invincible. Amazing stamina and unholy determination, but he was weakening. He hadn´t even used his telekinesis since the crossbow and he was weakening. The grip John was held in should have broke his neck, and he was unable to fully prevent the bullet.

"You´re weak Carlos. You think your father made you invincible. Sandman is many things, but stupid he is not. You are mortal, and you should know it. After all, would Sandman create a pawn that could not be tossed aside at a whim." John smiled as a flash of doubt crossed Carlos´ face. "Can you even use your powers any more I wonder.?" John coughed up blood as the shrapnel moved into his throat. Suddenly, blackness flashed into John´s mind as he felt a strong force impact into his head, a forceful energy penetrating his consciousness. "Watch me." Acolyte mumbled as he rose to his feet, his hand extended. "Never underestimate me!" Carlos forced a strong tone to his fading voice as he came to his feet. The aire of confidence arising from his chest. "I will spare you for now, to allow you to see the full extent of my powers when I win this tournament! Then I will kill you a thousand more times than what I ever did to your friends!" Carlos called to the crumpled body. With a grimace, the acolyte turned from the arena and returned into the stands.

Outcome:
Acolyte wins, John loses