Alpha Omega

She came out worse, I think.

To say I was screwed would be an understatement. I thought Zeta's were supposed to be like, rarer than a damn white tiger or some shit. Now I'm about to face off with one after having less than ten minutes training with another two while said two trainers are off frolicking around with a fourth Zeta and the fifth is standing on the sidelines looking pissed as hell as if it's my fault I'm about to get my ass handed to me by a tall, amazonian, Udiknov warrior. 

How do these things keep happening to me? 

I bend down to grab the two knives in my hand. If this were a Lord of the Rings movie, I'd start spinning them around and just starts throwing and jabbing. Now, standing here with two knives, I can't decide if they're totally too big (the Blades alone are almost the length of my forearm and the hilt is long and the twisting metal carvings feel foreign in my hand) or too small, if you take into account how long Cassandra's arms are and how easily she could just step forward and punch me in the gut, with a knife. 

She, just like Lord of the Rings,  starts spinning the knives around, rotating her wrists and circling me. There is something enchanting about watching how effortlessly the movements come to her. Her eyes never leave mine and her feet do a complicated looking side-ways-cross-walk and her knives never hesitate. 

I have, maybe three options? I can try and fight and maybe get a good hit in. Unlikely. I can run, but look how well that worked out for me last time. Or I can wait for my boys to come save my ass. 

I feel equal sense of longing for my mates to come and save me and disgust at myself for acting like some damsel in distress. I may have gotten myself into shit, but I plan on getting myself back out of it, just like I've always done. 

I tighten my grip on the two hilts. There is a reason why I hosted the Omega games and didn't participate. I was the furthest thing from coordinated, making me the crappiest opponent ever. However, I'd seen Maven hold his knives like this, with the blades running down from my pinkies instead of from my thumb. 

She continues circling me, but I find myself moving with her, each step to the right that she takes, I take one to the left. I eye her, looking for a weakness, and I can sense her doing the same. I don't know how to analyze her movements, but I've faced off with Big B and enough snotty Deltas to know how to seize up a girl before a bitch fight. Cassandra looks different to what I'm use to. She looks calm, but not bloodthirsty like her father. She looks focused, not blinded by range, confident but not cocky. I need to fix that, if she gets angry, she might just forget how to fight. Yeah, fat chance of that. 

Problem is, she's flawless. Honestly, how to do insult someone who looks like freaking Aphrodite and has a warriors title that could probably rival Aeris? 

OK, plan C. I screech out a battle cry as I lunge at her. I probably look like a fish out of water, but every time I lunge towards her, knives at the ready, she ducks away gracefully, Blonde braid flying behind her. I wanted to cut it off. 

I spin around, following her as she ducks under my arm again, coming up directly behind me. 

"Stand still!" I seeth, taking another swing. 

She smirks, "Not likely, Hellion." 

Bitch. Seething, I continue my assault. Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing twice and expecting a different result. Call me insane, but I don't think he considered the fact that sometimes we don't have any other options but to keep swinging and missing or else we'll have to accept defeat and, well that just isn't an option for me. 

"Cassandra, stop playing! You've accepted the challenge, now fight!" Oh great, the Mole is still here. 

Cass pauses, still balancing on the balls of her feet, but turns to spare her father a glare. I try to use the time to spring a sneak attack, but she ducks and spins under me. I bend to the side, looking like one of those air dancer balloons as I narrowly avoided getting sliced in the ribs. As it is, I still felt a cut, but I'm pretty sure at least five layers of skin are still attached. I can live without the other two if it means winning this stupid challenge.