"I'm here, I'm here Monsuier!
The Angel of Death!
Don't stop! Don't stop!
" --The Phantom of the Opera
Her foot lashed out, connecting right under his chin, snapping his head
back. She used the millisecond it took for him to fall to the ground to
regain her footing, snapping her heels together, springing into the air
with a war cry.
He looked up, half dazed, to see a pair of crimson eyes set against a blackened
silhoutte rushing toward him. By mere reflex he rolled to one side as she
hit where he should have been, hitting the battered duracrete floor with
enough force to crack it. She tumbled and rolled, spitting curses along
the way.
Thus relieved for a brief moment, he vaulted to his feet and slipped the
durasteele dagger from its sheath. He licked the blue coolant that was
leaking from the corner of his lip as he advanced, bracing his foot against
her crumpled form as the knife edge shone in the twilight. His air of superiority
was shattered as her arm swept back, knocking the blade neatly from his
hand. The feral set of her features served only to compound his momentary
shock, and that was all the advantage she needed.
Razored claws sprouted from her fingertips, making a soft sound of metal
passing on metal. A sickening gurgle passed from his lips as her claws
imbedded themselves into his armored skin, just below his abdomen. Silently,
without resistance her claws slipped up his body, fumes and rivers of fluids
flooded from the gaping wounds. Her claws met his throat, and with a sharp
deft flick of her wrist she pulled her hand free. She clenched her now
smoking, bloodstained hand, making a tight ball of her fist to strike.
Her fist impacted the bridge of his nose, shattering the delicate framework
of armor.
Yet...she was not done.
Gracefully, with all the lyric of a dancer, she glided behind him, slipping
her fingers over his shoulders with great delicacy and care. Her right
arm gently nestled itself under his chin, her left hand softly wrapping
its fingers over his forehead. With the swiftest of movements she slipped
his head to one side, to the accompaniment of a splitting crack. His shattered,
lifeless body slipped from her warm embrace, crumpling to the ground.
Such was the end of SkyFire.
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