Finally Mine (Damianya) (Twiyor)

Fight

The moon shone brightly in the sky, providing the Earth some light alongside the stars.

The night was quiet, the locals fast asleep in their bed.

It was peaceful. It was peaceful for everyone but one, actually.

Anya sprinted down the sidewalk, her black jacket billowing in the cold wind.

Running as fast as she could, she tried not to slip or trip as her boots slid against the surface that was covered in a thin layer of ice.

Looking behind her, she spotted the man chasing her not that far behind.

'Crap, he'll catch up soon.'

She felt panic rise in her as she tried to think of a solution.

Turning back around, she tapped on her earring and heard some crackling before someone came through.

"I managed to kill the hideout. Barely anyone survived but there's one who got away and decided to go for me. I might need backup." She said through heavy breaths.

"Affirmative. Sending the nearest agent your way." Handler replied before the call cut.

She found an alley and ran into it hoping that she could escape, but instead felt the panic starting to bubble over when she was met with a dead end.

She took a few deep breaths, still at a loss for air from all the running.

Hearing heavy footsteps, she whipped around, got in a fighting stance, and prepared for hand to hand combat.

The man stood a few feet away from her, blocking the entrance of the alley with his large frame, effectively trapping her.

The man charged forward, throwing a few punches that came close to Anya but never quite coming into contact with her.

Frustrated, he went for a roundhouse kick which Anya quickly dodged by ducking.

However, she wasn't able to avoid the uppercut that hit her right in the stomach.

Grunting, she stood up as fast as she could, clutching her stomach in pain and wrapping her arm around it protectively.

Slowly, he pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched her eyes widen slightly.

He couldn't see any other part of her face as she was wearing a mask that covered everything except her eyes.

He could barely even see what color it was in the darkness of the night and the shadow from her baseball cap.

"Heh, not so brave now, are you sweetheart?" He said in a gruff voice, his lips forming a smirk.

The nickname made Anya want to throw up.

She didn't dare talk. In case he gets away, she can't have him knowing her voice.

He suddenly lunged at her, blindly swinging the knife at all directions in order to raise the chance of her getting cut.

It worked.

The knife cut through her clothes and she inhaled sharply as the tool sliced her skin.

She felt blood trickle down her arms and stomach, the red fluid being hidden by her clothing.

The man pulled back after relentlessly swinging his weapon around for a minute, inspecting the damage.

Her clothes were sliced through, making her look like she was wearing old, torn rags.

She was wearing all black but the fabric of her clothing was so obviously turning darker, proving that the man had managed to draw blood.

A lot of blood.