Ouch.
Ouch ouch ouch.
Kitty stumbled, took a tumble backwards, almost spilling onto the floor. Tina's kicks jabbed at her ankles, sending pain shockwaving through them like splinters. This tasted familiar, a feeling she'd been with a lot in the past few days. Being down and out, worth dirt, losing out on life. No time to pay attention to her scoring an extra hit with the bag; there was more to focus on in the moment. Last time she managed to come back around, but it was only because she had help. This time, there was nobody around that wanted to take pity on her.
She waited for another kick, and took a swing with the waddy. She hoped that she'd catch Tina's flesh, and keep her down. She felt the resistance of the air rush around the club, striking nothing but static nowhere space. She swung the other direction and made the same lack of impact, only doing more to throw herself off balance.
She was running out of space to back up into. Picking through her brain for something to do was like trying to look through a stack of index card with hands made of scissors. Finally, Kitty resorted to taking another swing downward at Tina, hoping that this one connected. Maybe she'd fail so catastrophically that the waddy would launch out of her hands and sail away, sprouting wings and flapping away into the sunset.
It wouldn't surprise her if things went that way.
She's the girl from the video?
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MethodicalSlacker
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Where did she hear that the first time? That cats always landed on their legs, no matter the fall. Maybe it was in cartoons she watched hen she was younger, eating cereals or peanut butter toasts. As she kicked Kitty, she wondered if that would happen.
Kitty fought back, did that count? She swung the club at her, trying to smash her but her swings were clumsy. They hit the air, hitting an invisible enemy. Tina wasn't hit, however and it made her feel happier than she thought. She was confused, she had two broken fingers, a possibly broken wrist, a hurting butt and a blurry and bloody eye yet she was happy.
She raised her leg, one more time. Maybe the last kick that she would need to give to her, especially if it smacked her stomach. It was her turn to stop breathing, to hurt on the floor. Fair and square, she kicked her target from the floor.
"Fuck you too, bitch."
Kitty fought back, did that count? She swung the club at her, trying to smash her but her swings were clumsy. They hit the air, hitting an invisible enemy. Tina wasn't hit, however and it made her feel happier than she thought. She was confused, she had two broken fingers, a possibly broken wrist, a hurting butt and a blurry and bloody eye yet she was happy.
She raised her leg, one more time. Maybe the last kick that she would need to give to her, especially if it smacked her stomach. It was her turn to stop breathing, to hurt on the floor. Fair and square, she kicked her target from the floor.
"Fuck you too, bitch."
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MethodicalSlacker
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Fair and square in the chest the kick landed, and Kitty fell to the ground. She tried to get back up onto her feet, but the strength had left her body. Her stomach was screaming at her, and her lungs were losing their struggle for air. The wind had been knocked out of her sails.
Is that all it takes, then?
Kitty tried to scramble back away from Tina on her elbows, dragging herself backwards, inching towards god-knows-where as long as it was safe. She should have been more choosy with the fights she picked. Was this a fight? She was half joking, anyways. It didn't make sense, Tina's over-reaction, but not much made sense anymore. Did her own decision make sense? Likely not, but the time for sense had passed out of her grasp long ago.
She gripped the waddy so tightly that it felt like she was going to cut herself on the wood, and kept moving away, ready to kick out at Tina if need be.
Is that all it takes, then?
Kitty tried to scramble back away from Tina on her elbows, dragging herself backwards, inching towards god-knows-where as long as it was safe. She should have been more choosy with the fights she picked. Was this a fight? She was half joking, anyways. It didn't make sense, Tina's over-reaction, but not much made sense anymore. Did her own decision make sense? Likely not, but the time for sense had passed out of her grasp long ago.
She gripped the waddy so tightly that it felt like she was going to cut herself on the wood, and kept moving away, ready to kick out at Tina if need be.
It was her turn to suffer. It was her turn to hurt, her turn to be on the ground, her turn to be in pain, her turn to crave for air that didn't reach your lungs despite being all around you. She got on all-four then she lunged, landing she lunged on top of her. She was doing what Kitty tried, but better. Tina was better at fighting, in a way. She had experience, she knew what she was doing, she knew the consequences of her actions and her hands were aiming for Kitty's face.
Natali saw this happen once. Same thing happened to her, Tina rushing Natali, knocking her to the ground and preparing to wail on her. She didn't kill. She didn't know why, her excuse was weak. She wasn't the one that hurt her eye. That was dumb, she should have smashed her face in. Instead, she didn't and let her go and score a kill, or maybe she killed the guy before that and Tina let go of a killer but it was the same thing. She wanted to kill her, but didn't and now it felt like she had an itch she couldn't scratch.
Her twisted fingers on her right hand were the first thing to smash against Kitty's face. She was pale, really pale. Like a ghost, her broken, bleeding fingers poked her softly, adding some colors to her cheeks. Their body tangled, almost becoming one. Tina's hands were on Kitty's face, her hands were constricting, albeit accidently. It was the fall, the pain, the feelings that forced her hands to squeeze her face.
She saw something shiny in the corner. Something cute, something round, something circular. She smiled, that's what she was going to do. Her right hand couldn't do it, her left was the only one that could pull the feat off. Tina's left hand reached Kitty's ear, her index twirling around the metal circle.
She pulled, hard.
Then, in her hand.
In that hand of hers.
Her left hand that drew and painted.
Was a small metal ring, and a chunk of flesh.
Natali saw this happen once. Same thing happened to her, Tina rushing Natali, knocking her to the ground and preparing to wail on her. She didn't kill. She didn't know why, her excuse was weak. She wasn't the one that hurt her eye. That was dumb, she should have smashed her face in. Instead, she didn't and let her go and score a kill, or maybe she killed the guy before that and Tina let go of a killer but it was the same thing. She wanted to kill her, but didn't and now it felt like she had an itch she couldn't scratch.
Her twisted fingers on her right hand were the first thing to smash against Kitty's face. She was pale, really pale. Like a ghost, her broken, bleeding fingers poked her softly, adding some colors to her cheeks. Their body tangled, almost becoming one. Tina's hands were on Kitty's face, her hands were constricting, albeit accidently. It was the fall, the pain, the feelings that forced her hands to squeeze her face.
She saw something shiny in the corner. Something cute, something round, something circular. She smiled, that's what she was going to do. Her right hand couldn't do it, her left was the only one that could pull the feat off. Tina's left hand reached Kitty's ear, her index twirling around the metal circle.
She pulled, hard.
Then, in her hand.
In that hand of hers.
Her left hand that drew and painted.
Was a small metal ring, and a chunk of flesh.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Everything was close, and everything was fast. Tina was on top of her, and Tina wasn't hurting her. Her fingers were poking at her face and they were poking fast and hard, but ultimately it was more of an annoyance than anything. She could get through this. She could get out from under Tina. All she had to do was
was
um
she didn't think this part through, did she?
Like, what if she lost?
That would kind of suck.
Like, really, it'd be kinda really bad.
Everything was very, very warm. Scalding, you might say. Especially up next to her ear? What was going on over there?
She was being squeezed in on all sides. Kinda sucked.
Who is this?
Kick, kick, kick, get this thing off of her.
Circular, all around, a tunnel of closeness.
She hated it. Knees up, too.
Get off. Get off.
was
um
she didn't think this part through, did she?
Like, what if she lost?
That would kind of suck.
Like, really, it'd be kinda really bad.
Everything was very, very warm. Scalding, you might say. Especially up next to her ear? What was going on over there?
She was being squeezed in on all sides. Kinda sucked.
Who is this?
Kick, kick, kick, get this thing off of her.
Circular, all around, a tunnel of closeness.
She hated it. Knees up, too.
Get off. Get off.
She was stunned by the sight. By the blood that was gushing out of the girl's ear, staining her hands. Her nails were caked with the flesh and blood of Kitty, and she could only stare at them. Her right hand squeezing Kitty's face and her left hand hovering above the ground. Blood fell to the ground, it stained her clothes, she was kinda grossed out but couldn't stop watching.
Kitty struggled under her, but Tina did nothing. She was able to move herself just enough to move her legs. Kitty kneed her, she looked down, trying to fight back but then Kitty put her foot on her chest and pushed. Or maybe it was a kick, she wasn't sure. She was still staring at the earlobe and at the earring.
She was half-standing, half-crouching as she stumbled backward. She was pushed backward, stumbling and hitting her arms on the box-walls. She decided to call them that, they boxes that made the corridor where Kitty and Tina fought, so they were box-walls. Maybe Kitty called them that too, but Tina didn't want to know what was she thinking about.
Back on her butt, back to square one, she looked at the thing she had in her hand. That was it, the earlobe, or at least a piece of it, along with the earring. There was another one left on Kitty's ear. She felt like jumping on her and getting that one too. She wasn't smiling anymore. She kinda felt like vomiting. Blood in her hands and on her clothes, a piece of flesh in her left hand and a sour taste in her mouth. She felt like puking.
She struggled to stand, but she did it anyways. She backed away slowly, back to where she entered the arena. She wanted to leave, she hurt her and she was done. She didn't need to hurt Kitty more. Maybe she would in the future, but she didn't feel like she needed to hurt again. Got her lesson and all. Her left hand, still holding Kitty's flesh, pressed the box to escape the box corridor.
She just stared at Kitty, waiting for her to make her next move. Maybe she would jump on her again, betraying her own trust toward herself, or maybe she would drop a box on her. She didn't know and Kitty didn't either: they were dabbing their way through the darkness.
Kitty struggled under her, but Tina did nothing. She was able to move herself just enough to move her legs. Kitty kneed her, she looked down, trying to fight back but then Kitty put her foot on her chest and pushed. Or maybe it was a kick, she wasn't sure. She was still staring at the earlobe and at the earring.
She was half-standing, half-crouching as she stumbled backward. She was pushed backward, stumbling and hitting her arms on the box-walls. She decided to call them that, they boxes that made the corridor where Kitty and Tina fought, so they were box-walls. Maybe Kitty called them that too, but Tina didn't want to know what was she thinking about.
Back on her butt, back to square one, she looked at the thing she had in her hand. That was it, the earlobe, or at least a piece of it, along with the earring. There was another one left on Kitty's ear. She felt like jumping on her and getting that one too. She wasn't smiling anymore. She kinda felt like vomiting. Blood in her hands and on her clothes, a piece of flesh in her left hand and a sour taste in her mouth. She felt like puking.
She struggled to stand, but she did it anyways. She backed away slowly, back to where she entered the arena. She wanted to leave, she hurt her and she was done. She didn't need to hurt Kitty more. Maybe she would in the future, but she didn't feel like she needed to hurt again. Got her lesson and all. Her left hand, still holding Kitty's flesh, pressed the box to escape the box corridor.
She just stared at Kitty, waiting for her to make her next move. Maybe she would jump on her again, betraying her own trust toward herself, or maybe she would drop a box on her. She didn't know and Kitty didn't either: they were dabbing their way through the darkness.
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MethodicalSlacker
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She was off.
Kitty tried to rise.
Couldn't.
There was a ringing in her ear.
Kitty couldn't rise, but something else could, and something else did.
She was on her feet again. Woozy. Weary. Walking.
Then, she recoiled against the weight of the world. The light was too bright. The lower to the ground she was, the less everything hurt.
Her sight drifted towards the figure, on its two feet. Had trouble recognizing it.
But it was recognized, even if it took a little while.
Slosh, slosh, something was hurting, sloshing was everything, hurt, hurt.
Left foot, right foot, carried forward on some godless graceful gallop towards the deep.
The figure would raise its right arm to block the club, so she would have to strike the left.
Without her willing it, she felt the rush of the club through the air, and something broke under its strike.
A thought, and the impact, and it had happened.
Her feet kept moving, carrying her forward until she brushed up against a shipping container. Turned around, looked at the figure.
Dropped the club. Clutched at her head. Voice started to break down, until she had to stop screaming.
She didn't remember when she started.
Kitty tried to rise.
Couldn't.
There was a ringing in her ear.
Kitty couldn't rise, but something else could, and something else did.
She was on her feet again. Woozy. Weary. Walking.
Then, she recoiled against the weight of the world. The light was too bright. The lower to the ground she was, the less everything hurt.
Her sight drifted towards the figure, on its two feet. Had trouble recognizing it.
But it was recognized, even if it took a little while.
Slosh, slosh, something was hurting, sloshing was everything, hurt, hurt.
Left foot, right foot, carried forward on some godless graceful gallop towards the deep.
The figure would raise its right arm to block the club, so she would have to strike the left.
Without her willing it, she felt the rush of the club through the air, and something broke under its strike.
A thought, and the impact, and it had happened.
Her feet kept moving, carrying her forward until she brushed up against a shipping container. Turned around, looked at the figure.
Dropped the club. Clutched at her head. Voice started to break down, until she had to stop screaming.
She didn't remember when she started.
Ouch.
She hit her arm.
The right one, well, the left one but it was the right one to hit because she used it the most.
It wasn't the heaviest of hits but it still hurt, so much more than she would have expected.
Heck, she even dropped her ear and the piercing.
Kitty, after hitting her arm, continued stumbling past her.
She was a box, she dropped her gun and clutched her head.
Tina felt nothing but the pain burning her arms away.
She looked at her, she looked at the box, she jumped on the box landing on her bruised butt and stared at Kitty again.
Still heaving softly, her scream was fading away.
Tina looked behind her and let herself fall on her bag.
It hurt, but she felt the gun underneath her.
She rolled, looked at her broken fingers and her bruising and potentially broken arm and wondered what she should do.
She wrapped her broken fingers around her right arm, sending pain to her brain but it didn't register.
Maybe it was adrenaline or maybe Tina wasn't able to feel it anymore.
She grabbed her gun.
She hit her arm.
The right one, well, the left one but it was the right one to hit because she used it the most.
It wasn't the heaviest of hits but it still hurt, so much more than she would have expected.
Heck, she even dropped her ear and the piercing.
Kitty, after hitting her arm, continued stumbling past her.
She was a box, she dropped her gun and clutched her head.
Tina felt nothing but the pain burning her arms away.
She looked at her, she looked at the box, she jumped on the box landing on her bruised butt and stared at Kitty again.
Still heaving softly, her scream was fading away.
Tina looked behind her and let herself fall on her bag.
It hurt, but she felt the gun underneath her.
She rolled, looked at her broken fingers and her bruising and potentially broken arm and wondered what she should do.
She wrapped her broken fingers around her right arm, sending pain to her brain but it didn't register.
Maybe it was adrenaline or maybe Tina wasn't able to feel it anymore.
She grabbed her gun.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew.
A more apt comparison would be that, in search for rock candy, she had decided to gnaw on the side of a boulder.
Killing wasn't her thing, was it? If the results of this battle were any indication, that is. Tina had managed to slink off somewhere, and she could hear her fumbling around in a bag.
Tina was just getting started, wasn't she?
She gasped for breath, the lurching start of a roller-coaster without any of the follow through, a train car pointed into a canyon having stopped just short of the abyss. An itty bitty width of an inch was all that was separating her from a gradual domino into that ditch.
Girl wasn't gonna stick around to see what was in that bag of hers. She stumbled forward, recoiling from the pain, and bent down to grasp the strap of her day-pack. It took all of her strength to keep from tumbling over, but she managed.
And then, slowly but surely, without a care to whether or not there was a gun pointed at her back,
[the cat disappeared elsewhere to lick her wounds.]
A more apt comparison would be that, in search for rock candy, she had decided to gnaw on the side of a boulder.
Killing wasn't her thing, was it? If the results of this battle were any indication, that is. Tina had managed to slink off somewhere, and she could hear her fumbling around in a bag.
Tina was just getting started, wasn't she?
She gasped for breath, the lurching start of a roller-coaster without any of the follow through, a train car pointed into a canyon having stopped just short of the abyss. An itty bitty width of an inch was all that was separating her from a gradual domino into that ditch.
Girl wasn't gonna stick around to see what was in that bag of hers. She stumbled forward, recoiling from the pain, and bent down to grasp the strap of her day-pack. It took all of her strength to keep from tumbling over, but she managed.
And then, slowly but surely, without a care to whether or not there was a gun pointed at her back,
[the cat disappeared elsewhere to lick her wounds.]
She raised her gun...
and did nothing.
She could have pulled the trigger, punching holes inside of Kitty. She'd be a goner if Tina's bullets connected but she didn't pull the trigger when she heard the cat's paws hitting the concrete floor.
She lowered her arm, letting the gun's peephole see the ground. She didn't even need to shoot a warning shot. She sighed, lowering her head and shaking her head. She couldn't kill a wounded bitch who tried to kill her, how would he score a kill? Maybe she didn't want to go home that bad, she didn't know, she knew nothing but her potential doom that once scared but now, only left her bored.
She turned toward the camera. The same one she spoke to earlier, to all the viewers and the terrorists and the family she had left. She tilted her head to the left, smiling and squinting her eyes softly. She barked one last sentence-
"And I did that to her."
-then walked away, grabbing her bag and heading back into the wilderness for another cold night.
and did nothing.
She could have pulled the trigger, punching holes inside of Kitty. She'd be a goner if Tina's bullets connected but she didn't pull the trigger when she heard the cat's paws hitting the concrete floor.
She lowered her arm, letting the gun's peephole see the ground. She didn't even need to shoot a warning shot. She sighed, lowering her head and shaking her head. She couldn't kill a wounded bitch who tried to kill her, how would he score a kill? Maybe she didn't want to go home that bad, she didn't know, she knew nothing but her potential doom that once scared but now, only left her bored.
She turned toward the camera. The same one she spoke to earlier, to all the viewers and the terrorists and the family she had left. She tilted her head to the left, smiling and squinting her eyes softly. She barked one last sentence-
"And I did that to her."
-then walked away, grabbing her bag and heading back into the wilderness for another cold night.