Showmare

A metallic thud rang through the arena, as loud cheers, whoops, and stomping erupted. Everybody shifted forwards in their seats, eager to know how this would play out. Swift started to bounce more on his legs, back and forth. He was leaning forward, looking ready to charge the enemy. Muscle simply held his position, preparing for an attack.

Swift jumped forward, the distance between them shortened, as he pulled back his right hoof, preparing to strike. Muscle shifted, leaving him to hit empty air. Recovering himself, Swift closed in again, once more setting to strike. His opponent dodged again, leaving only space for him to hit. A third attempt was just as successful, leaving Swift hitting nothing. This time, Muscle took his opportunity, landing a left hook on Swift's jaw. Swift stumbled back, the hit forcing his balance out of rhythm. A confident smirk spread on Muscle's face tauntingly. Back in position, Swift leaned forward, priming his leg to shoot out. Muscle shot forward, ramming his head into the primed leg. Swift fell back, the tackle pushing him to the ground. Muscle pounced at him, aiming for a direct hit on a dazed target. Swift rolled aside, leaving his opponent's hoof to contact the ground. He rotated himself, his hind leg making contact with Muscle's side. Both jumped back, getting into the position they started with.

Up in the booth, Trixie chuckled, entertained at the show being displayed. Filthy looked over at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "And what are you finding amusing, miss?"

Trixie looked at him, a beguiled smile adorning her face. "How one-sided this fight has become. Trixie already knows who's going to win."

Filthy looked back at the arena, a smile of his own creeping on his face. "Yea, I guess it's kind of obvious. That new guy is really laying it into him."

Trixie threw her head back, belting out a loud, satisfied laugh. "And that is why it is so amusing to watch." Filthy gave her a confused look, which she dismissed with a wave of her hoof. "Just watch the fight, and maybe you'll understand. Or not."

Ignoring the small glare from Filthy, she took a look over at the stands, seeking out the brown stallion from her previous fight. He stood out, in his own way. The crowd around him was moving about, cheering and taunting. He was perfectly still, intensely staring at the ring. His features were taunt, straining to pick up even the minute details. Trixie allowed a small smile to creep onto her face, a bit impressed with how serious he was. Shaking her head, she decided it would be best if she focused back on the fight herself.

Muscle made the first move this time, pushing off with his hind legs. His head aimed straight for Swift, whose reaction was not fast enough. Swift crossed his arms, taking the tackle dead on. He was forced back a few feet, still keeping his stance, until he rotated around his opponent, leaving him to barrel through nothing. He took the chance to make a wide swing at Muscle, who dodged it with the momentum used for his last attack. Muscle had a look on him that practically radiated confidence. His smile was wide, showing his pride in how things were going. Getting back in stance, he lifted a hoof, and waved it tauntingly at Swift, beckoning him to try again.

Swift took the bait, charging forward with his left hoof raised. His opponent moved at the last second, responding with a jab to Swift's jaw. Unfazed, he swung again, aiming for an uppercut. Muscle shifted, allowing the blow to miss his head by inches, and responded with a hoof in his side. Wincing, Swift pushed on, throwing various hits on his opponent. None made their mark, as Muscle continued to land hit after hit on him. Looking tired, he tried once more, swinging back his arm for a straight shot on his opponent's face. Muscle's smile was now beyond wide, as he stepped back to avoid the attack, and swirled around for a powerful hind leg buck.

Trixie smirked, and simply said "It's over."

A similar smirk appeared on Swift's face, as he powerfully flapped his wings to redirect himself away from where Muscle was aiming. Muscle kicked out, contacting nothing, and finding himself in suspension. Swift threw an uppercut at the exposed underbelly of his opponent, seeming loads faster than before. The impact twisted Muscle, who was now flopping about to get some sort of stability in his corkscrew. Swift didn't relent, sending a barrage of hits into the side of his flailing adversary, which only registered to the crowd as a blur. The smile on his face was becoming bigger and more crooked, taking on a demonic overtone. He was enjoying this. His opponent was losing it, not able to get any sort of footing while attack after attack rained down on him. When he finally collapsed from sheer pain and exhaustion, Swift was laughing. A loud, bellowing laugh that came from deep in his gut. A laugh that made even Trixie shudder. It was the laugh of one who did not care, who loved the pain he was causing. Trixie knew more than anyone else that Swift changed when fighting. His playboy demeanor vanished, only to be replaced by someone who lived only for the kill. His true nature.

Standing over his downed opponent, Swift glared down, a maniacal smile on his face. Muscle looked up, now a pleading look in his eye, and fear across his face. This only made Swift laugh again, as he pulled up his hoof over the downed stallion's head. Muscle shook, trying to move to no avail. As the hoof came down, a deep "No!" came out from him, and was silenced by the dull crack of impact.

Swift turned around, pulling himself upright. He threw back his head, while he let out a resounding yell of bloodlust that overcame the room. The crowd met him with a cheer of it's own, while Trixie simply shuddered, glad she never had to face him herself.