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A big flashy attack by reyin that would prove unusually effective in the disarming of Tres. The mans foot right came up in a huge moon sault that would dislodge the machete from Tres's hand, causing it to be knocked up and behind Tres landing blade first into the snow.

Then the opponent would land chest first into the snow and before Tres could dive on top of him, he would do something that Tres found to be a blessing. As soon as Reyin came in for the tackle tres would sprawl out. Tres was a wrestler and the sprawl being the best defense against a double leg or tackle, he did it without any actual thought of moving.

Tres would shoot his legs back while thrusting his hips to the ground. Simultaneously he would place his left arm between his body and the area between the opponents leading left shoulder and neck. That left arm (bicep) would then be a brace allowing Tres to shoot his lower body away from the opponent. Tres's chest would be on top of the back of the opponents left shoulder. Tres's left forearm would reach to put pressure on the opponents right bicep. The opponents right hand held (?) the sword and he needed at least a small measure of control over it.

A football tackle hit the midsection of the body but to knock the opponent down it was required that the legs be pulled in, now that the opponent did not have control of the legs he would not be able to achieve a dominant position upon the tackle. Simultaneously with Tres's right hand he would stab the knife down into the opponent down into a more meaty section of the back likely beneath the left shoulder blade. He would keep his right elbow down to limit the motion of the opponents left arm.

Tres upon sprawing out of the Tackle, Tres would shoot his hips up. This would put more pressure down on the back of the opponents left shoulder to keep his body down. The opponent had made at tackle and that meant his knee's wouldn't be able to build a base beneath his body. If the knife was lodged into the opponents back he would let go of the blade and move his right arm to press down and forward on the opponents left bicep. This would allow Tres to circle around to the opponents back while constantly keeping pressure on the opponents upper back to keep him down.

Tres would arrive on top on the opponents back if he was allowed to circle all the way around and upon getting to this position he would figure four lock his legs around the opponents waist. Tres's left hand had never left its spot on the opponents right bicep. This position of the hand would place the forearm around the opponents neck once he arrived behind the opponent. If he was able to arrive in this position, Tres would lift his left hand from the opponents right bicep and place it on his own right bicep which he would place above the opponents right shoulder. His right forearm would simultaneously move behind the opponents head. He would then tense his chest and squeeze with his arms, choking the opponent in the technique known as the rear naked choke.

This would all be done in about 2 seconds time, because these movements were simple and efficient.

'Damn'it they always have a sidearm'

The white snow would soon turn a deep crimson red. Tres regardless had to make a choice. He was going to be stabbed regardless but he did have a choice in how many times he did get stabbed. He had the choke and if he let go to keep himself from being stabbed, then he could lose this fight. Tres thought about it, whoever loses consciousness first loses.

"RAAAAAH s**t!"

Tres shouted in absolute agony. That was his first time being stabbed. Luckily because of his leather jacket a few of the random stabs would slide against the thigh leather jacket and thick hide like skin that his superior genetics gave him but a few of those stabs, they tore through his tight abdominal obliques to poke one of his kidneys. Another ran through his left deltoid and left tricep. Tres would move his head to the right side of the opponents head and he would squeeze with his arms and pump his chest with every thing he was, all of his might.

Tres was as strong as a human could get, even though his size didn't neccesarily reflect it. All air, all blood going through the neck would suddenly cease and it wouldn't be long before the opponents muscles that stabbed so sporadically would run out of juice and he would pass out. If Tres squeezed any longer the opponents windpipe would be crushed by the pressure. Tres's forearms had thin but very hard bracers, plus the thick jacket, on them and they would also make sure that the opponent no room between Tres's vice and his neck.

The blade would come up from the obliques all the way to the bottom rib. This is where the blade would likely be forced to come out. Driving the knife through the leather and thick hide like skin would likely be difficult but possible, anything would help in Tres's dire situation. The opponent had the option of stabbing up into the underarm even though from the opponents position it would be difficult, so it likely wasn't going to be that deep.

Tres's side however was completly eviscerated and the amount of blood he was losing was somewhat ridiculous, depending on how deep the opponent could get that knife through the leather, through the thick skin and tight muscle...probably pretty far regardless.

Tres's forearm was covered in a bracer that would defend the slash along the arm on the way out. The fact that Tres was still conscious after all that was a bit epic because of the sheer pain that must have caused.

"
AHH s**t....

ALRIGHT..."

With those last two stabs, Tres would do something rather desperate. After he would shout 'alright', he would bite the sleeve of his left arm and even after the knife ripped through the veins and arteries that flowed into the left arm and the arm went numb the strength of Tres's neck would hold the arm tight and it became obvious that as they descended into the cold depth's. Tres was not letting go until his opponent passed out.

Tres had the liberty of taking a large breath of air before they descended into the water.

In about 5 seconds, only one man would ascend from the water depth's.

The breather or the Butcher?

A match won by seconds, maybe not won by anyone at all.

The crowd would stand to there feet and look down in the water. Behind the broken plates of ice what happened beneath was unknown. The suspense was as thick as the cloudy air that seeped from each persons mouth as they would breath. The counter ran like a slow heart beat that nobody seemed to hear. Time would seem to slow down as each second would stretch to a minute.

ONE, 'NOTHIN WRONG WITH ME'

Tres had a few cards up his sleeve left, but not many. The opponent dropped his sword, a smart move and he used that free hand to pull against the bracer of the left. Tres was strong but his neck alone wasn't going to keep his left arm in place especially as the cold uncomfortable water began flow into his mouth through his shiny white teeth.

The cold water bit harshly at the massive wounds on the side of his body. He put the pain out of his mind by repeating constantly in his head...

TWO "NOTHIN WRONG WITH ME"

Now as soon as his left arm was freed from his grasp Tres's right arm would just as quickly slide underneath the gap between the opponents chin and neck to replace the position of the left arm. His right hand would grab for his jacket on his left shoulder.

THREE NOTHIN WRONG WITH ME

shhnnn

He got it, me managed to slide in that right hand into position for the one armed RNC, as soon as his arm was finally ripped from its place. He took advantage of the fact that Reyin used both arms to pull the left, limp, arm from place. His left arm hung limp on his left side but it did not matter.

FOUR NOTHIN WRONG WITH ME!!!

Tres's head was placed on the right side of the mans head above his right shoulder, the mans head springing back out of shock would miss and Tres would be free from the shock that may have resulted. Tres's legs were wrapped around the opponents body in a figure four lock, even if Tres wanted to let go, he could not do so immediatly. The vice around the opponents body was very tight.

Even if Tres's right hand did not get its place, the figure four would not break and the opponent would be held prisoner beneath the waves. Tres was like a cement block that the mafia tied to peoples feet before they dropped them in the water.

Five NOTHIN WRONG WITH ME!!!!!

The adrenalin shot of death's near approach was the only thing keeping Tres awake from the deadly cold and the blood loss. The desire to win seemed to over ride everything and Tres would hold on, just for a few more seconds.

SIX SOMETHINGS GOT TO GIVE!!!!!

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR

LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOOOOOORRR

Four SOMETHINGS GOT TO GIVE

Yeah, managing to get to the surface with both of them was getting Reyin mad respect points. However, by arching his head up and not keeping his chin down was gonna make it harder to get that ounce of seperation he desperately needed.

Five SOMETHING GOT TO GIVE

Tres would tense his massive pectorals causing them to push against the opponents back and pull harder against his shoulder and jacket to further decrease the space in an effort to keep his opponent from taking a breath upon his head reaching the surface.

Six YEAAAHHHH!

All reyin had to do was tap out and he could live but until Tres passed out from the blood loss he was going to fight as hard as he could. Tres would take another breath upon reaching the surface but with the loss of blood he found it a lot harder to breath.

Its getting down to the wire.

As soon as the mans arm went lip against the struggle Tres would scramble. He would let go of the mans neck. The thought occured to Tres that he may be playing dead but it did not matter if Tres did not get out of this cold water now it would not matter if he won the match because he would surely die. Tres would grab the opponent under his underarms and would support the mans left arm under his shoulders and he would swim with the fear of death in him to the edge of the pool.

He would then crawl out, dragging the opponents body with him as tres did not want to see this man die. He was a good opponent and he had fought just as hard as Tres did but then something that Tres was not expecting would happen as he crawled on the snow, dragging both of there wet bodies to the icy shore.

A feeling like hot daggers frying his insides would well up in his chest, yet, Tres could not find the breath in his lungs to scream. A worry as black as night would gather in his mind and yet at the same time thought became cloudy. The chill of the air made his body stiff and even as he wanted to shivver on the cold ground he could not. The only motion he could find for himself to make was the slow closing of his eyes and the quick drift into merciful sleep.

Tres would do his best to stray from the light at the end of the tunnel that he saw within his minds eye, hopefully the paremedics would come quickly to save them both.