Charon rushed ahead like a bull seeing red, with both silver arms high as its horns. However, for Diego the world had slowed down to a snail's pace, giving him all the time in the world to see the pair of blades getting closer and closer.
Shit, He thought in panic, desperately trying to make his body do anything other than stand there shaking, Shit, shit, shit.
One of the arms fell against him, and only then his body broke free out of pure survival instinct, moving faster than he could during training. Feet slid back to shift the body, and an arm flew to intercept Charon's, while the other fist went for the throat. The silver blade floated just above Diego's head, denied and forced to fall back.
The revenant's mind was in complete chaos, forgetting and ordering all sorts of contradicting ideas as he tried to get a grip and figure out what to do while his rival was still stunned. He stopped to think what to do now, and that was the first mistake.
Even after getting punched in the throat, it was only a matter of time before Charon could get back in shape, and that was what Diego had given him in spades. With his chin down and his throat still burning from the punch, the boatman began to slice again with his silver arms.
Every other option had just been taken away, and the kravist was forced to take a stance against knife attacks, wrists looking at his face to avoid getting them cut and bleeding out. The arms came at him from the sides and the front without rhyme nor reason, just their owner blindly trying to reach his body. Diego intercepted them with his own arms, but every time he got a new cut on them. To make things worse, his muscles were completely tense with fear, losing his usual speed, and in his mind the only thought on replay was how he couldn't let even a single one of those knives reach him.
His eyes were all over Charon, and he twitched at every little movement he made, trying to catch anything he could do before it was too late. And the bastard noticed it, changing his rhythm and feinting to confuse Diego, giving him no other option but to escape to the ropes as he jumped out of the way of the attacks.
"Hellmask was dominating the match just a minute ago, but now that Charon has brought the knives into the table, he's putting everything into staying away from them!", May said from the commentators table, from where he could get a better look at the duo as they got closer to his corner of the arena.
"That's the beauty of the sport May, everything can change at any moment!", Misha retorted at the side of her partner, "Now, the real question is if Hellmask will do anything other than run away any time soon!".
"Let me tell you, if I was in his shoes I'd be running away faster than him!"
As soon as Diego felt the ropes against his back, he knew there was no more room to run. He kept his defense up, trying to survive the crude lashing he was being subjected to, and managed to catch Charon's right shoulder moving back. He was about to throw another thrust with the whole weight of his body. The arm jumped straight for Diego's chest to finish him off, and in the panic inside his head, the kravist forgot everything about his training and grabbed it before it could land a hit. His own hand began to bleed all over Charon's arm, covering its silver in a dark red.
"What a way to stop him, but how long can he keep on like that?!", one of the announcers shouted.
Charon pulled and pushed away trying to free his arm in vain, finally deciding to use the other one to go for the kravist's face. Time froze again for an instant as the arm came to take it all away, as if fate was desperately trying to claim Diego back after he was stolen from it. In a wave of adrenalin, he moved to the side so fast that he'd fear his neck would snap and escaped with only a cut on the cheek.
The crowd cheered at his near demise, shouting and clapping. It was enough to distract him for a second, a second that he couldn't spare. When his eyes moved back, he saw that Charon's arm was already halfway to his neck, and there wasn't enough time to stop it. Diego moved his hand to intercept it and twisted backwards to escape, despite knowing that this time he wouldn't be fast enough.
He was going to die again.
He then felt a slash against his chest.
Not his neck, his chest.
Diego was completely perplexed. He was open, with a clean path to kill him and he'd squandered it to give him another shallow cut. Maybe he'd just missed it? It was weird, but not too far-fetched.
But there was no time for wondering, as Charon was already back on the attack and the kravist once more began to desperately try to save his life. There wouldn't be any more chances, a single mistake and he would die again. It was time for his secret weapon.
As the blade came again by the side, Diego captured it and withstood the pain when he wrapped it in his arms. He then inhaled as much air as he could, and what came out of him was an eruption of green fire aimed straight at Charon's face. His mouth had become a flamethrower that blinded the other wrestler.
"What an underhanded move, point-blank at Charon!", May shouted from the table.
"Ref, are you blind?!", Misha jumped in, riling up the boatman's fans, "How is this legal?!"
The flames weren't real, only a parlor trick for the show, but it was enough to steal the time that he desperately needed. Now, he only had to put those precious seconds to good use and ignore the crowd booing him. Like the knife-arms weren't a cheap trick.
Charon could feel the suffocating warmth of the flames stuck to his body, forcing him to take his cloak off and take a gulp of air as soon as he got them out of his face. Coughing and with tears running away by the sides of his face, he opened his reded eyes, immediately wishing they were still closed. Hellmask stood right in front of him, holding his oar like a weapon.
"I'M GONNA SHOVE THIS STICK SO FAR UP YOUR ASS I'M TURNING YOU INTO A GODDAMN FLAG!", the masked revenant shouted with all the strength in his lungs, boiling with rage from the knives and how they had cut him all over. Now he had a weapon, and no other choice but to fight back.
"Are weapons allowed on this match?", the male announcer asked.
With the side of the eye, he saw the apparition, the other Hellmask, sitting on top of one of the corners, proudly smiling and lifting two thumbs up. Diego did his best to ignore him, even when his blood was boiling, and tried to regain a small semblance of control over himself. He blew a current of hot air through his nose and spun the oar around him, part to make a show for the audience, and part as a defensive maneuver and to intimidate his rival.
"It doesn't look like the ref wants to get too close and ask after that display", the other commentator bounced back. Coincidentally, the referee took a step back.
Weapons had always been one of his favorite areas, to the point that his friend Kobra had even mocked him for spending money in going to their seminars. He always asked him when would he need to use a sword or a staff on a street fight, as if they were lying around. Well, look who was laughing now. He was the one brandishing the weapon, and on the other side, a guy that desperately wanted to make everyone think he was made out of money, and now looked like he was rethinking his life choices.
Diego took the initiative while Charon was still scared, and used the oar like a spear. He thrusted at him in the stomach, in the chest and the shoulders, anything to keep him and those knives he had for hands away from him.
"Charon's now the one on the back foot, and Hellmask isn't giving him any opportunity to get close again!"
The boatman was distracted, enough to make him forget about everything else. After a feint, the kravist swiftly swept one of his feet away with the oar, shifting his weight and leaving him open. Quickly, Diego moved the other end of the oar against Charon to finally knock him out. However, his reflexes worked overtime and managed to block the oar with both silver hands, now stuck to the wood.
Many would have tried to wrestle the oar away from Charon, instead, the kravist simply let go. Now that both arms were immobilized, Charon's upper body was defenseless, and Diego felt the urge for payback take him over. He slapped his ears with his hands, turning is senses to black, and before he could recover, he used his elbow like a blade, precisely cutting his rival's forehead with the bone and bringing out a thin flood of blood out of it.
"I don't need any tricks to cut someone", Hellmask said viciously, barely holding in a wave of anger that was ready to blow through.
The blood poured over Charon's eyes just as he was starting to know again where he was standing, making him wipe it over and over as he tried to step away from Hellmask.
"I don't know how he did that, but Charon's blind!", Misha shouted from outside the ring, "How is he going to escape?!"
The kravist grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him against the floor, crucifying him under his knees. Diego then raised his elbow above his head, ready to smash Charon's face in.
"Wait, stop!", the boatman said in a panic, closing his eyes and moving his face away.
Diego stopped in his tracks, and in that moment, everything finally clicked together. He finally understood why Charon didn't kill him when he had the chance. Or better said, now that he had the time to think, he remembered the reason why. It was all a show, he was never going to go for his throat. He realized that he was never in any real danger of death, and the fire inside him began to cool down.
"I'm… sorry", Diego moved his elbow away, ashamed and concerned about his rival.
He stepped out of the way and let the referee handle everything else. With everything that had gone on, Charon didn't have any fight left in his body, so he sat down and quietly waited for the count to be finished, feeling the adrenaline leaving his body.
The referee then whistled and pulled him from his arm until he sprung up on his feet, crowning him as the victor.
"And Hellmask takes his debut match!", May declared from the commentators table amid the whistling and booing from the crowd. But to Diego, none of it didn't matter.
He looked back at Charon, still lying on the ground and bleeding from his forehead, and a few minutes ago he was ready to make it much worse. Emma had already told him it was an act and that the guy would just be doing his job, trapped by the same legal handcuffs than them. He'd completely forgotten about it and almost crushed his face with his elbow in an attack of rage. There was really only one thing on his mind.
What is wrong with you?