Cold-Blooded

Frozen

All 5 guns were trained on her, ready to fire if she moved a hefty inch, two of those guns were a rifle with enough power to rip her head and shoulders to shreds. But not even the threat of death could wipe that glossy smile off her face. It was seductive yet seeking. It asked for more, but only for those that could handle her. And 13 well-trained militia found out the truth in puddles of their blood. Of course, they didn't know who she was, but she thought they'd at least come prepared. They did not. 

"If this is about your friends, I do apologise," she spoke, her voice gentle and accented. She wasn't from here. "But if you want to kill me, what's stopping you from pulling the trigger? Am I that dangerous to you? Guns...seriously."

"Quiet, lady," one of them spoke threateningly, pressing the nuzzle of his assault to her temple. Instead of a whimper, he received a chuckle in return.

"You want to play it rough? I like to think you've done your homework on me, or maybe your boss has. Strange how I'm kept in a room with no windows and an outside lock. Are you under rotation? Am I going to be here for long?"

"What? How do you know that? You can't even see."

"And that's the beauty of it. I don't need to. It's just smears of blues, oranges, yellows, purples and reds. And if you haven't noticed, I am blindfolded."

"Are you threatening me?"

"That's what you call a threat? That's adorable. Since we're here throwing threats around..." The man that held the gun to her head looked around in confusion as freezing winds gradually swirled around the woman's seat, the rest of the men realising that it was snowing. Inside the room. Just as one was about to fire, ice crawled up the rifle and shattered in moments and it wasn't long before everyone else's firearms did the same. "I can do you one better."

"How the hell is she doing that?!"
"She's one of them...shit!"
"Get her to stop, man!"

"I'm bored now." She broke free as the cold froze the restraints keeping her tied to the chair and, with remarkable speed, floored three men in seconds, her movements leaving a wispy trail where the hands were. The other two, who had to take a moment to realise what happened, began to adapt to the situation by transferring their bodies into a fighting stance; feet spaced apart, fists up to shield their face, knees slightly bent. But the woman sighed as she straightened up from resting on one knee, turning around to face her remaining opponents, blindfolded and without the need to adopt a fighting stance.

"Surprising. I thought a blinded hostage would be easy to apprehend..." She dodged a left hook and countered by grabbing the arm that shot out at her and pulled him towards her, her shoulder slamming into the militia's bulletproof vest with enough force to launch him off his feet and slam into the far wall. "But it seems like you're stalling rather than making me wait for some man in a mask." The last man standing went for a low kick but she blocked with her own and spun around, executing a mid kick that forced him back a step, but she wasn't done yet. The woman launched forward and went for focused hits, every strike sending a shockwave of ice into his vest and when she felt it consume the entire garment, a heavier punch burst the vest to glassy fragments.

"Huh―?!" The militia didn't have time to blurt out his sentence because she booted him into the nearest wall and, while he was doubled over to recover, axe-kicked the back of his head and heard bones crack on impact with the floor.

"Man in a mask..." Her hand reached off to whip the blindfold off her face, revealing her cloudy, lilac eyes, before throwing it onto the floor and sauntering over the bodies. Reaching the door, she snatched the short, grey hoodie off a hook and slipped it on before tilting her head at the door in front of her.