Charon looked down at the chaos the two of them had just created and a smile appeared across her blood smeared face. Her bloody matted hair gave her an odd, scary appearence and although it was just bits of ring attire hanging down, from a distance it looked like flesh.

She knew she had just pushed herself to her limits but she wasn't going to let Mortismere go without a small reminder of who the winner was. She reached down into her boot and pulled out a small branding iron and stuck it into one of the fires still burning around the ring. She knew now she had time on her hands, the mini morty's still hadn't shown up to take him back to heal and she knew that the wounds she was about to inflict wouldn't ever heal much like her own.

She dug around in the debris for a few minutes until she found what she was after, one of Morty's arms. She thought about waking him up but then again, that would make her as bad as himself, so she took the branding iron and drove it into his wrist burning a huge ornate letter D there. She put the branding iron back in the fire, the audience had gone rather quiet and had then cheered as she had branded him, then there was hesitation as it became clear she intended to brand him more than once.
She searched in the debris until she uncovered part of his back, she branded him again right in the center, the smell of burning, rotted flesh pervading through the smoke and melting ice.

Third times a charm she considered, she wanted to brand his leg but couldn't find it in the debris. Extra officials had now run out to the ringside area with paramedics and some of Mortys mini me's. They were pleading with her to come down but they just didn't understand, they couldn't. She felt the hatred burning up inside of her, the pentagram scar on her back throbbed with the memory of the pain it had caused and Mortismere's laughter echoed in her ears from many years ago. One more brand and it would be even.

She found his head and shoved the iron straight in the middle of his big, purple, fruitloop forehead, burning the letter D there. The branding iron had been sealed with magic so there was no way he could easily hide it. Just like the pentagram on her wrist and the scars on her legs. He would be reminded every day that sometimes people could come back and bite you in the ass. The arena audience gasped in shock at the brutal display but then they didn't know what Mortismere was really like, what he was capable of and finally, she wasn't frightened of him any more.

She stumbled down off the pile of debris and was led away by paramedics.