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With her opponent lying dead at her feet, the young matadora lifts one leg and twirls, stomping onto the slain opponent's belly and raising her sword triumphantly into the air with a confident “Ole!" and a smile that can charm millions. All throughout the gym, the class erupts into louder applause than even what they were doing during the last moments of Tatiana's life. With no urging, they leap from their seats to crowd around the victor, congratulating her and examining the fine craftsmanship of her kill.

Tracey weaves through the crowd, squeezing between two taller girls before popping right in front of her friend. She wraps her arms around Annabelle in a big hug, her squeeze bringing the blonde's face to her chest. “Oh my gooosh! You did it, Annie!" she shouts. “You got her, you beat their up-and-coming star dead!"

“I can't believe it," one girl says. “She's a real beast," another concludes, all looking at the sweat and blood drenched body spread for all to see.

“Tatiana has slain so many. No mercy whatsoever, now look at her," Miss Prim says, walking up to the corpse, squatting before it, her hand brushing over the features of the toned and injured belly. “Quite the killing blow. There's no way she could have recovered."

“In all my years," the Headmistress says, “I have never seen a student so soundly dispatch an opponent with no preparation beforehand. Your prowess will make you a powerful combatant one day, either as a sportswoman, or as a ranking general."

“H-headmistress, you're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?" The Dean says, a smirk on her face. “First, she'll have to be our star pupil and cement our university as the premiere training ground for swordswomen, which I'm most certain she will be."

“Regardless, it was a splendid show," the Headmistress says. “You defeated your opponent with great panache. The gladiatrix was thoroughly outwitted and roundly beaten. You really did get right to the point." She says, chuckling to herself.

The Dean lightens up, resting a hand on her hip. “You could say she got the gladiatrix by the short and curlies, huh?" she chuckles.

Laughter is heard throughout the gym, provided by all the girls in attendance. Nodding, Miss Prim looks up towards the Headmistress and says, “I think it just might be time to get the trophy out. What do you think?"

The Headmistress titters and holds her hands out to the students. “What say you, students of the Matadora College? Has Annabelle proven herself worthy of her first ever trophy?"

A resounding “yes" fills the hall, and the Headmistress nods, turning to head to the back room of the gymnasium.

Meanwhile, Miss Prim laces her fingers through the blood-stained bush, holding onto the gladiatrix's waist as she gets herself a good grip. With practiced exertion, she pulls the wild tangle of hair out from its former owner, leaving a humiliating scar in its place. She takes the scalped pubic hair and places it in the trophy the headmistress procured, and turns toward Annabelle.

Annabelle's stares, mouth agape at the whole ritual

.

“We'll, of course, get a proper taxidermist for your first kill, but for now, I present to you this—a trophy of your victory. The gladiatrices will be so miffed when they find out who took down their star. But they will forget, in time. Do not forget, yourself, the first life you have taken. Remember what it was like to see the life drain from her eyes, and that smug smile wiped clean off her face! She was totally bewildered—dazzled to death."

The Headmistress steps beside Annabelle, placing her hand upon the warrior's shoulder. “Let's give three cheers for Annabelle."

“Hip Hip"

“Hurray!" the class responds.

“Hip Hip"

“Hurray!"

“Hip Hip!"

“HURRAY!"

“Now, then…" the Headmistress says, turning toward the Dean. “I suppose t these girls deserve a little recess from instruction as the rooms are cleaned, don't you?"

“It'll be my pleasure to wipe her blood from these hallowed grounds, headmistress," Annabelle says, bowing politely."

“Of course, dear. Now, let's get her out of here. I have such plans for Miss Tatiana."

With a blaring whistle, Miss Prim barks her orders. “You heard the Headmistress. I need you and you to grab the cart, and I need you lot to grab the gloves and cleaning supplies. You over there, with the biceps, you're helping me with lifting duty. Let's go, I don't need her pompous ass stinking up my gym."

“Head her over towards the morgue," The Headmistress says. “And tell Betty down there that this one is to be given the 'special' treatment."

Miss Prim snickers and says. “As you wish, Headmistress."

And with that, the students all set off to clean up, their course barely interrupted by the demise of the fierce, naked gladiatrix – so well beaten and put to the sword by short blond Annabelle!