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Hens climbs on top of me, and I’m fucking livid. An eye poke? Really? He thinks that’s going to fucking work for him? It didn’t with Ty, and it won’t with me.
I get my knees under me and push to my feet, so he can’t get onto my back for back control. He’s scrambling here on the ground, but with him at my back, I’d rather have my feet under me.
Once I’m on my feet again, he gets one arm around me from behind to block my arm, and his other hand lands a punch to the side of my head.
And as he has me trapped against the side of the cage, I can’t use my right arm to pull him into anything or to lay hits on him. He drives his left knee into my leg, over and over, and as he makes contact with the side of my knee, I wince. Fuck, that hurts.
I manage to get my left arm away from his and lift my elbow to bring it back and get him in his face, which should be hard enough to send him backwards and give me time to turn around. But the fucking asshole hooks his fingers in my glove and grips tight, keeping me from moving my arm back.
“Fuck off!” I yell as I try again, but he hangs on tight.
“Let go of the glove!” the ref yells to Hens.
He does, and the second my hand is free from his hold, I lift my elbow and make contact with his face. Hard.
And I’m glad the ref didn’t stop the fight for the glove grab, because that felt fucking great.
Hens immediately tries to get onto my back again, but I turn and dump him. He falls to his knees, but quickly pops back up. And when he does, my glove meets his face and blood speckles the octagon floor.
Beautiful.
He once again pushes me against the cage, and I’m getting really fucking sick of this shit. He’s letting the cage do his work for him as he holds me against it and knees my ribs. He’s apparently a one-trick dog, or whatever it is.
I manage a couple hits on him, and he does the same to me. I have a cut near my eye that is stinging, and blood and sweat is dripping into it. But I blink it away and stay focused.
And like the chicken he is, he once again ducks his head, avoiding my hits and moving to attack my legs. Which is a dumb move.
I get my arm around his neck again and drop down to my knees, bringing him with me. I waste no time pulling back, increasing the pressure on his neck and waiting for him to tap.
Instead, he rushes forward to get his foot under him, so he can push into standing. But that’s no problem. We can do this standing as well, I’m adaptable. I don’t let go, moving to my feet with him and maintaining my hold on his neck. He has to tap soon… this is a tight fucking choke.
But he brings a knee up, and it lands directly on my groin. And I know that was intentional.
“Hens!” the ref calls out, but we don’t stop.
I have a cup on, so while it hurts, it’s manageable. And even though groin strikes are not allowed, we’re not stopping this. I need to keep going.
As I’m forced to release him because of the brief rush of pain through my balls and stomach, he moves back to create some distance between us for a moment.
And as he lands a low kick, I barely have it in me to return one. I’m fucking exhausted. He’s doing exactly what we knew he would. He’s resorting to dirty moves to get out of dead ends. And this time, he’s making it all look like accidents so the fight doesn’t stop and we don’t have to reset. Because of that, I’m forced to work harder, and I don’t know how I’m going to keep this pace up for the next minute of this round.
But I have to.
I manage a swift left hook to his head, which causes him to step back for a moment and regroup. But he comes back in with a body shot, landing on my sore, bruised ribs from all his knees earlier.
I take a deep breath as I try to muster up more energy, as an insane amount of it is being expended for this bullshit. But after a few more hits and kicks on each other, I’m over it. And I can tell he is getting tired now too.
So, enough of this.
I get low and rush his leg, wrapping my arm under his knee and pulling up hard so he falls down to the floor. The cheers erupt from the crowd, and I take that as a sign they don’t like this fucker very much either.
As I fall on top of him, I immediately move my knees up into his armpits to keep his arms restricted, and my heels push into his hips to keep him from bucking or rolling out of it. He lifts his arms over his face to protect from my attack, but instead of hitting him, I hook my arm through his, pull it against my body and shift my hips so I can pull him into an armbar. There’s no way he can get out of this one.
But the second I lean over him, his other hand comes out, and he strikes me in the fucking throat.
I’m stunned for a second as I momentarily loosen my grip on him, and try to catch my breath. I hear the ref yell something, but I can’t hear him as I focus on gathering myself after he pulled yet another prohibited move. But I quickly shake it off, as I know the fight won’t be stopped for that and we have just seconds left in this round.
I’m left scrambling to control his arm again, and he manages to get another hit to my ribs, as I get one more to his face. But it’s weak, and I’m relieved when the bell sounds to signal the end of the round.
