233: The Wife and the Snake

Should I just put him out of his misery and get this over with? Beatrice wondered as she stood a couple of feet from her bleeding, screaming, one-arm-less opponent. The other duel of her so-called “bracket” was not over either. Beatrice looked at the duel between the snake lady and Number Twenty-five.

Mere minutes ago, Number Twenty-five had the snake lady’s temporary cock in her ass, and mere minutes later one of them would be dead. She still must have the dick I gave her! Beatrice remembered. I wonder if that makes it more difficult for her to move? Must be weird, right? But it certainly didn’t look that way. If anything, Number Twenty-five had more and more trouble keeping up with the snake lady’s speed.

What’s wrong with her? Beatrice wondered when she realized how tired and winded Number Twenty-five had gotten without even doing any serious damage to her opponent. Number Sixty-six isn’t even moving that fast! And yet, despite the snake lady not even exerting herself in dodging the incoming attacks, Number Twenty-five’s attacks seemed to land further and further from the intended target.

Number Twenty-five struck the rocks beneath where her opponent stood a second ago, sending pebbles into the air and damaging her own wrist. Her leg swings flew across the air, creating a refreshing breeze for her opponent. Not a single attack came even close to the promising start when Number Twenty-five took control of the dagger. The same dagger that after all this time still did not have a single drop of blood on it.

The dagger! Beatrice remembered and looked at the four-eyed milf’s wrist. Even through all of the milf’s indiscriminate—bordering on desperate—movements, Beatrice saw it clearly enough: the rot and blisters that spread from the putrid bite wound. Oh, so their fight is over too, Beatrice concluded when she realized the true state of their fight.

Whether it was some Magic Skill or literal poison, the result was the same. The more that Number Twenty-five moved, the more the poison spread, and the weaker she became. Number Sixty-six was literally stalling and waiting for the poison to do all the work for her. And why wouldn’t she?

Healing over time versus damage over time, huh? Beatrice couldn’t help but draw a parallel between her own possible stalling strategy and the snaky lady’s. Which would win out? Beatrice saw a blister pop on Number Twenty-five’s wrist, causing her to drop the knife from the sudden pain while yellowish pus spread further across her hand, infecting more skin. Yeah, fuck that! That was Beatrice conclusion concerning the contest between two effects over time. No way in seven hells am I letting that infectious snake near me!

“Argh!” Number Twenty-five grimaced in pain and grabbed her wounded wrist, finally acknowledging the wound that she must have had noticed before. But the moment she touched the festering wound, she screamed in pain as more blisters popped from the slightest pressure on them. She let go of her hand, but already too late. A mix of pus and bleeding skin and flesh tore from the rotting hand and stuck to her healthy fingers, connecting them to the original wound by slimy, bloody, odorous threads of mucus.

“You… What did you do!?” the milf screamed tearfully, picked up the dagger into her left hand, and in a fit of rage charged the venomous Number Sixty-six. The latest attack was even more embarrassing than the ones before it as the pain and poison took their toll on Number Twenty-five.

Without saying a word, the snake lady jumped aside, easily evading the attack. Number Twenty-five changed direction to follow-up her attack when—in the corner of her eye—she finally saw her husband, lying on the ground, grabbing his bleeding arm.

“Baby!!?” Number Twenty-five called out to her husband and stopped her offensive.

“You noticed it just now!?” Number Twenty-six lashed out at his wife as if she was to blame for his predicament. That’s when he saw his wife’s rotting hand. “What happened!?”

“I… That animal bit me!” She pointed at the hooded snake lady who was more than happy to let her opponent converse and waste more time. Beatrice could relate as she too was fine with simply standing by while Number Twenty-six bled out.

“P-Peter… It really hurts!” Number Twenty-five whimpered tearfully. She walked toward her husband, keeping her festering hand close to her chest while the wound spread to her forearm.

“Wendy…” Number Twenty-six quietly spoke his wife’s name with sadness. Spurred by her plight, he managed to get on his feet and, step-by-step, walked toward her.

“Oh, Peter!” Wendy cried out with joy when she saw her husband approach her and ran to him with her arms spread.

“Come here!” Peter spread his arms for a hug—even as more blood shot out in spurts out of the open wound of his hacked arm—and embraced his wife the second she reached him.

“Oh, I can’t stand not feeling your warmth for so long!” Wendy cried and kissed Peter’s face all over.

“It’s time, Wendy,” Peter said and looked Wendy right in the eyes.

“Oh, finally!” Wendy moaned and looked ecstatic. “Promise me we’ll kill that hooded piece of shit first!”

“Deal!”

Wait, wait, wait! Beatrice did not like one bit where this conversation was heading. The snake lady’s calm façade also showed a crack as she took a step toward the couple. But before either of them had a chance to do anything, the two lovebirds shouted in unison:

“Two For One!”

“Two For One!”

Peter and Wendy passionately kissed each other and made out while a black aura manifested around them and engulfed them both.