Kurt froze. First? He turned to protest, but Mammon was already leading Alain out of the ring. Turning back, he saw Vinnie stretching against a ring post as Reese slipped through the ropes and took up a position on the other side, smiling confidently at Kurt.

Ding! The bell rang and Vinnie let go of the post. The audience was shouting, but the volume was noticeably decreased as Kurt stood planted in his spot and watched Vinnie come toward him. Run, his mind shouted at him, but his legs didn't seem to want to move. Swiveling at the hip he saw Alain behind him, standing at the ropes, waving him over. Suddenly his knees buckled and Kurt almost fell to the mat. He caught himself in time, exerting control over his body, and ran toward Alain, hand out, reaching for the tag. Alain leaned over the ropes, stretching his arm toward Kurt. And that's when Kurt felt Vinnie's hand on his shoulder.

His progress halted, he was spun around to meet a right cross that sent him staggering to the side. Unconsciously he put a hand to his jaw as he steadied his legs, waiting for Vinnie's next approach. Vinnie stood between Kurt and Alain, and as Vinnie came close, Kurt feinted to the left and then drove to the right, trying to get around him. Vinnie threw up an arm, clotheslining Kurt and sending him to the canvas flat on his back.

Kurt didn't have time to regain his bearings. As he struggled to get up, he saw Vinnie's face above him. Vinnie took a grip on the chest of his costume, hoisting him to his feet. Grabbing Kurt's arm, Vinnie began running, dragging Kurt with him, then stopped, whirling Kurt around and throwing him into the ropes. He bounced off, heading straight for Vinnie's outstretched arm, another clothesline in the making. Letting his body go limp, Kurt dropped to his knees and slid beneath Vinnie's arm. He fell forward onto his hands and immediately began rolling, moving out of the way as a leap landed Vinnie in the spot where he'd just been.

Kurt scrambled to his feet and circled as Vinnie came toward him, dancing out of reach as Vinnie tried to grab him, keeping Vinnie always in front of him. As Vinnie made another lunge in, Kurt moved to the side and dropped to the floor, bracing himself with his hands and swinging his legs in an arc toward Vinnie's, a move he'd been practicing with George and Alain. Connecting, he toppled the vampire, sending him falling forward into the ropes.

Kurt was up immediately and was on Vinnie before he could turn around, punching him in the kidneys twice before he whirled to the side, connecting an elbow to the back of Vinnie's head. Kurt danced back and waited for Vinnie's next approach, beginning to feel confidence stealing up on him.

As Vinnie turned, the smile was gone, a look of determined anger now on his face. Kurt's confidence dropped. He should have taken the opportunity to tag out, but he was stuck. As Vinnie approached, a hand out to grab him, Kurt grabbed it, whirling to try a judo throw he'd practiced with George and Alain. Rather than rolling Vinnie over his hip, though, Vinnie pulled him up, wrapping an arm around his throat. "Play time's over, bitch," Vinnie shouted in his ear, loud enough to be heard over the renewed cheers of the crowd.

Pulling upward, Kurt's throat caught in the crook of his arm, he shook Kurt like a toy. Kurt grabbed his arm, trying to break his hold. Vinnie was as strong as ever and Kurt pulled futilely at his arm as Vinnie squeezed tighter, cutting off his breathing.

Things began to get blurry and Kurt realized he was going to die if he kept pulling at Vinnie's arm. Shooting his hands back over his head, he connected with Vinnie's face, groping desperately for Vinnie's eyes. One thumb connected and Kurt pushed with all his might as Vinnie jerked his head around, loosening his hold on Kurt's neck.

Kurt sucked in a gulp of air, and as he exhaled, brought down his other arm, digging his elbow back into Vinnie's stomach. The air rushed out of Vinnie and the arm loosened further, allowing Kurt to slip out. It was tempting to bounce back and try to inflict more damage on Vinnie, but Kurt knew better now. Stumbling forward he turned and ran for Alain, tagging his hand before crashing into the ropes and falling to his knees.

Alain was up and over the top of the ropes almost instantly as Kurt fell flat on the floor and rolled out of the ring beneath the bottom rope.

Vinnie had already recovered by the time Alain reached him, but Alain bulled into him, pushing Vinnie back until he slammed into one of the posts. The post bent with the force and Alain backed up a few steps, slamming into Vinnie again. The post bent again and Kurt could swear he heard a crack, even above the sound of the roaring crowd. Alain backed up again and leapt forward, but Vinnie rolled out of the way, turning to the side along the ropes and Alain hit the post with full force.

The post snapped, a jagged wooden edge pushing up into Alain's stomach as the top ropes on both sides sagged. Alain fell back, a tear in his costume fraying through the lightning bolt, a bleeding cut running up along his abdomen. Vinnie took advantage of this to rush Alain, throwing punch after staggering punch at Alain's head, pushing Alain back. "Come on Alain," Kurt yelled, pounding his fist against the mat.

Alain staggered backward, pummeled by Vinnie's blows. He was feeling every one and the pain wasn't receding. The gash along his stomach wasn't closing up. A punch hit him in the mouth and he fell back another step, tasting blood from a cut on his lip. Another jab caught him and the cut opened wider, his mouth filling with blood. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He tried to drop his fangs, but nothing happened.

Vinnie pushed him back against the ropes, one arm going around Alain's neck while the other arm pounded his abdomen. "This one's for France, and this one's for 'sixty-two," Vinnie yelled, punctuating the statements with body blows. Alain wanted to bend forward, but Vinnie held him up. "Yeah," Vinnie hit him again in the upper abdomen, "it hurts, doesn't it." Vinnie punched him again and Alain coughed, spitting blood in Vinnie's face.

"Oh yeah," Vinnie said, his tongue darting out and licking off some of Alain's blood. "Tastes good." Vinnie hit him again. "Didn't think you were gonna win, did you?" Another punch and Alain's knees quivered. "The fix is in. I'm gonna finish you off nice and slow and then they'll throw that punk of yours in with me. I'm gonna make him scream."

"No," Alain protested, coughing, little flecks of blood spraying out.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Vinnie asked, following it with quick three jabs to the ribs. Alain could feel one crack. Satan had given and Satan had taken away. He was mortal, the curse of being a vampire gone.

Vinnie let go of him and Alain crumpled down on his knees. "Come on, hep-cat," Vinnie shouted, the crowd around them going crazy, "give me your best shot."

But Alain couldn't concentrate on him. He could feel his face swelling, the cut on his stomach had been opened wider, the blood trickling in rivulets down the silver of his costume. It was over. The life without living, the being with people without being close. All the pain of the last sixty-plus years welled up inside.

"What are you waiting for," Vinnie shouted. "Come on. Stand up and take it like a man."

Alain began to cry. His throat grew thick and his eyes started to water. It was almost a shock as the first tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another and another. Slowly he reached up and wiped one away with a finger, bringing the finger to his mouth. Even through the blood he could taste it, the salt, the sorrow. Crying was a biological process that stopped when he became a vampire. Even when Marie died, he'd been unable to cry. All the decades of losses, disappointments, and pain welled up in those tears.

"Whatsa matter," Vinnie yelled. "You a pussy? Can't take it? Come on, motherfucker! Come on!"

Putting a hand on the mat, Alain crossed himself with the other. He tensed his legs. Twenty-three, he thought, shouting it out in his mind, twenty three! Hut! Hut! Hike! Alain launched himself forward from the crouch, catching Vinnie in the stomach with his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him and driving forward with his legs. Pushing with all his strength, with everything he had in him, Alain accelerated their progress, knocking Vinnie off balance as he pushed him backward across the ring. And then they stopped, Vinnie stiffening.

Alain let go and stumbled back. Vinnie was standing at the broken post, the shard of wood protruding out through his chest. Vinnie's eyes were wide as his hand went up to the jagged point. Drawing it away with his fingers bloody, he stared at them. "You son of a... bitch. The fix..."

Vinnie's eyes glazed over, still staring at his hand. His arm went limp. His bloody hand dropped to his side. As his legs gave out, he slid off the broken post and crumpled to the mat.

Alain dropped to his knees and fell forward onto his hands. Coughing again, he watched the flecks of blood dot the mat. "Now it's my turn," a voice shouted behind him. "I'm gonna enjoy this!"

---

Kurt had watched in horror as Vinnie battered Alain, seeing Alain bleed. He'd thought Alain was immortal, but something had happened. His strength was gone, his invulnerability gone, and though he'd beat Vinnie, he was nearly incapacitated, on his hands and knees, spitting blood as Reese entered the ring. "Alain! The ropes," Kurt shouted. Turning to run around to the corner closest to Alain, Kurt found Mammon blocking his way.

"Can't go there," Mammon said, putting out his arms to create more of a barrier. "That would be cheating."

"And you don't call what you guys did cheating?"

"That's immaterial," Mammon said.

Kurt threw a hard right, catching Mammon on the jaw and knocking him off his feet. Clutching his hand in pain, Kurt looked down at Mammon. "Then sue me, you fuck."

Kurt ran to the end of the ring and took a sharp turn around the corner, running to reach Alain. Alain had crawled within a foot of the ropes as Kurt reached them, Reese stalking forward just a few feet behind him. Kurt leaned over the edge of the mat, grabbing Alain's outstretched arm with both hands and threw himself backward, pulling Alain out of the ring. Alain slid under the bottom rope, leaving a smeared trail of blood on the mat, and tumbled over the edge, falling to the floor. Kurt didn't have time to check on him, though. The fight wasn't over yet.

Grabbing the middle rope and lifting a foot to the mat, Kurt pulled himself up. As he clambered over the rope, Reese grabbed him by the hair and pulled him the rest of the way through, dragging him to the center of the ring. Bent over, his hair in Reese's hands, Kurt tried another move. This one wasn't from George and Alain, though. This one was 100% Captain Kirk.

Grabbing Reese's forearms, he threw himself backward, raising a foot as he fell and planting it in Reese's stomach. Reese went up in the air, letting go of Kurt's hair as he somersaulted over him, landing on his back.

Turning quickly, Kurt scrambled to get on top of Reese before he could get up. He got a knee on Reese's left arm, but not his right. Catching Reese's right arm as he swung it up to defend himself, Kurt held it away and rained down punch after punch at Reese's head. Reese tried to dodge, but Kurt was berserk, unable to be stopped, connecting each punch, slowly beating Reese's face to a pulp. When Reese finally lost consciousness, the crowd was screaming.

Looking to the edge of the ring, Kurt saw that Alain had raised himself to standing, leaning on the edge of the mat. "Kill him!" Alain shouted.

Kurt had never killed anyone and the thought of it made the berserker rage drain from him, leaving him suddenly feeling weak. The man below him was technically already dead, but the killing blow had to be delivered. He didn't look evil, though. Unconscious, his face dented and smashed, he looked pathetic. He was no longer a threat. He was just pitiful. "Kill him!" Alain shouted again.

Kurt remembered everyone who was depending on him, everything that rested on this fight. If he didn't kill Reese, Satan won by default. Slowly, reluctantly, Kurt moved off Reese and rolled him over onto his stomach. Straddling Reese's back, he took Reese's head in his hands, one on his chin, one on the back of his skull. Kurt took a deep breath, steeled himself, and jerked Reese's head around to break his neck like they did in the movies, falling back in shock as it came off in his hands.

From the stump of Reese's neck something seemed to bleed out, a pool forming in front of the soul-corpse. It had no color, as if light entered it and disappeared instead of bouncing off. It was like a pool of nothingness. It grew to nearly five feet in diameter, extending out from the stump. Kurt rose to his feet, dropping Reese's head, and moved back as a tendril rose up from the edge of the thing. Waving in the air, it seemed to be looking around, orienting first on him, and then Alain.

The tendril vibrated and then shot out toward Alain, wrapping around his torso. Alain clawed at it, trying to pull away, trying to escape as it pulled him forward. Kurt ran around the thing, careful to avoid its edge, and grabbed the tendril. His hands let go reflexively as the dire cold of it burned them. Looking at his palms, Kurt could see red marks of frostbite running along them where he'd made contact with it. Alain was halfway up onto the mat, struggling to break loose as it dragged him toward the gaping hole of nothingness it had become.

This was why Reese had been so easy. It wasn't him that they had to kill, but the emptiness, the nothingness inside him, and Kurt didn't know how.

Ignoring the pain of the cold, Kurt renewed his assault on the tendril, grabbing it and trying to break it loose from the mass, but it kept retracting, sliding through his hands without friction, pulling Alain ever closer to its edge. Kurt let go of the tendril, giving up on struggling futilely against it, and ran around the edge. He grabbed Alain's feet and planted his own, digging his heels into the mat and pulling, fighting the thing for possession of Alain.

But Kurt hadn't counted on Alain's blood. The smeared fluid made the canvas slick and Kurt found himself being pulled with Alain toward the edge like a water-skier behind a slow boat. The tendril retracted into the gaping emptiness, disappearing as it pulled Alain's head and shoulders in, the rest of him following slowly.

Kurt fought against the thing's immense strength, scrabbling his feet, trying to gain a solid purchase he could use to leverage himself and put up more resistance. But he was pulled inexorably forward, more of Alain disappearing into the pit. As Kurt's feet reached the edge, he let go, stumbling backward and falling to the mat a few feet away as he watched Alain's feet slip beneath the surface of the seeming pool of emptiness and disappear.

The arena was silent, the crowd's shouting was non-existent as Kurt stood and stared helplessly at the void. No tendrils rose up to come for him, but they would eventually. He knew that much. If the pit of nothingness wasn't beaten, it would do whatever it was doing with Alain and then come for him. If he left the ring, tried to run away, he'd find himself in a carnival booth on the sixth ring.

But how to beat it? It didn't have any substance. If he hit it or kicked at it, his hand or foot would just sink in and he might not be able to get it out. There was no way to attack it from the outside. The only way, he guessed, was to attack from within, assuming that it was even possible to survive inside it. Well, he thought, one way or another, I'm gonna have to find out.

Pinching his nostrils closed, Kurt ran forward, leapt up in the air, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes...