A Butcher's Tale

Prima Pugna: "First Fight"

She had been laughing for about *checks watch* 17 seconds. It started lightly, with a snort one could call cute (at least he thought, the psyco indoctrination made it hard sometimes to remember how to feel properly), but soon devolved into crazy hyena like laughs that ripped at her throat and his bloody ears. It was starting to irritate him. Then she started to slow down. 'Fucking finally!' Jack thought 'I was considering blowing her head off just to make her stop'. "HAAHAHHAahaeheh..eh..." She looked up, tears making themselves known in her eyes from all the laughing "Mamma MIA what a shitty name, eheh..". That really irked him. Jack sprung forth, his body twsiting itself with force and his steel like sinew coiling with barely restrained strength in his right arm as a fist the size of a mans head slammed itself onto the killer's face. She was cannoned back, slamming into a nearby wall and breaking it with a satisfying *CRACK*. The result of his blow...surprised him, to say the least. While the punch was, at least by their standards, a playful hit, perhaps more like roughhousing, for a baseline it would've carried enough force to liquify soft tissue and poulverize bone. And yet the aftermath he saw when the dust settled wasn't a mangled body with an atomized skull, but intead was the hateful glare of the killer, with a 90 degrees twisted nose, split lips, many missing teeth and a knife in her hands. Jack made his surprise known.

"THE FUCK?!"
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She was pissed. No, scratch that. She was FUCKING FURIOUS!. That massive bastard just hit her after introducing himself with the most STUPID AND SHITTY NAME SHE HAD EVER HEARD. The dumb fuck stood there, surprised about something. She didn't care. Not now. She glared at him with all the rage she could muster, her hand gripping her kitchen knife tight enough to make the tough polymer groan in her grip. She ignored that little part of her brain that screamed at her to be careful, to keep her distance, that she barely managed to survive and that had she not followed the direction of the blow it might've tore her head off her shoulder. That asshole was stronger than her. Maybe even stronger than Tobi. But she was Jess the FUCKING Killer, and she was DEFINETLY FASTER!

"TIME TO SLEEP, YOU OVERGROWN TESTICLE"

And she attacked.
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She bulleted forward, murderous intent clear in her eyes. She was fast. Real fast. Faster than him. The killer lunged with a slash, her black knife barely deflected by the leather. She spun in mid air, the momentum gained transferred in her right leg, resulting in a vicious kick. 'Fast. Too fast. Can't dodge. BLOCK!'. The hit was stopped by Jack's forearms, the metal denting and bending while the whole limb buckled under the force. 'Strong'. The un-man catched the leg, the bones slightly cracking under his grip. In a split second the killer found herself swinging through the air while Jack slammed her into the walls surrounding them. Eeach hit sounded, and probably felt like, a cannonball.
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The fucker was picking up speed. Every time Jess had hit something she could feel the weaker bones in her EVERYWHERE snap, without considering her tibia and fibula grinding themselves and the connective tissue inbetween into a paste thanks to that animal's tender ministrations. 'HE'S SWINGING ME LIKE GODDAMNED NUNCHUCK!'. The young woman panicked and ,through a good amount of luck, managed to land a kick on the giant's jaw, the force more than enough to kill someone yet barely making his head turn, allowing her to slip her way out of his crushing grip. As soon as Jess freed herself she twisted her body, slamming her long blade, up to the handle, through his mouth. The steel pierced the toughened flesh, cutting through the tendons and the tongue and coming out of the other side. The killer cheered ine her mind, being finally able to wound the wannabe Justice-Men.

"GOT YOU NOW, FUCKHEAD!" she exclaimed. "I'M GOING TO RIP YOU-!"

She had barely moved the knife, readying it for another attack, when a clean snap reached her ears. She jumped back, rising into a perfect guard stance. When she looked at her hand all that was left of her 12 inch blade was barely an stump of wood and metal, sheared with great force barely a finger away from the hilt. She noticed that there was some of his blood left on it. It was thick and a bright red, with the consistence of honey. The smell was DEFINETLY abnormal, rich and savage yet laced by chemicals. She had looked at it for less than a second when it started to coagulate, scarring and hardening with incredible speed. Her eyes widened in surprrise.