"In Which Reality is No Damsel in Distress"

(Pt. 2)

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1:30 AM

Somewhere in Averill

If only Terry wasn't trying to threaten me with a knife, we could've been BFFs. Right, 'coz nothing screams friendship more than death by a hundred stab wounds.

The thought of betrayal from my pseudo-BFF brought a sudden gasp from me, I shoot him a hurtful look.

"Are you gonna stab me, DD? Is that how it is, huh? I took your side against the Mickey Mouse feud and you're still gonna stab me?!"

"Ugh, just shut it and hand over your stuff. Nobody ain't gonna hurt."

I make a face. "Hate to be a grammar-nazi right now, but that sounds like a double negative. It makes it sound like you're lying."

"I won't mind having a taste first before we get her stuff, Terry," says 'Nev', mistaking my expression as fear.

I grimace in disgust. "Charming. You throw a guy a small bone. Next thing you know; he wants the whole skeleton."

They both advance. I hold up my hands in surrender and sigh.

"Okay, okay. You got me. But first, just give me a little breather here," I say, slowly walking sideways, a few steps farther from their vicinity.

They tense up — probably expecting me to whip up a mace or a gun. Like I could carry anything thicker and larger than my phone in these skinny jeans!

"Don't worry, I just need a little"—" I retch — "air."

Terry steps back, probably afraid I would spray vomit over his Yeezy knock-offs. Meanwhile, 'Nev' still wouldn't have it and closed in further in an attempt to capture me. Right, 'coz caging me — a defenseless person half his size — wasn't enough!

"Dude"— I retch again —" seriously! I'm just a helpless teenage girl stuck in a dark alley with two men holding me at knife-point without any weapon on me. At least, give me some space to process this, man," I grouse, swaying on my feet.

'Nev', with his insensitivity for personal space, eventually relents. 

"Thank you," I exhale, taking a few deep breaths to ease the throbbing in my head.

Terry, still training his knife towards me, watches me cautiously. "You got your space, now hand your phone and your wallet over!"

Oh, man. You have no idea what you're in for. I feel the throbbing in my head ebb. The imaginary spiders were nearly gone. I almost have full control of my limbs. Just a little bit more before the main attraction.

"Pfft!" A cackle escapes my lips.

This riles Terry up.

"You think I'm kidding, bitch?" he taunts, his impatience getting the best of him.

He moves closer, entirely blocking my view of the fence. He eyes me up and down, malice glossing over his eyes. He draws in a harsh breath. "Fuck this, we're done playing nicely."

He nods at 'Nev'.

"Uh-p-pa-uhp!" I raise a hand to stop the burly giant. I wipe my tears as I clear my throat. "You see, that's where you have it wrong. Or,"— I scratch my head — "was it when you backed up a bit?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm not sure. Anyways," I sweetly clasp my hands, batting my eyelashes. "Thank you for being a couple of gentlemen. It really helped me a lot to shake off some alcohol from my system. Seriously," I throw my hands in wonder — "who knew Eau de Dumpster à la L' Idiot* could turn a drunk girl sober? Also"— I give them my version of a sinister grin, cracking my knuckles — "thank you, 'coz I really need this right now."

No reaction. Okay, I can work with that.

"So, in an act of gratitude, Ioffer you two choices" — I raise a finger — "First choice, I handle this like a lady while you drop your knife, and I promise I will finish you off with a swift bordering -on-sweet-and-torturous approach." 

No reaction. Okay, tough crowd.

"Second" — I raise another finger — "you carry on with your threats, I break both of your noses and cripple your chances for fatherhood. Your choice."

Terry, obviously well-implied as the walking pie-hole between the two of them, nods. "I was wrong."

Goodie! Maybe there's hope for our friendship after all.

"You should be a comedian, lady. Well, that is, if you can survive this night."

Oh, poo! (I meant shit! It's shit!)

"Get her."

I sigh. "Seems like you weren't listening to me." Nobody does. "Manual Castration, it is."

https://youtu.be/O3dWBLoU--E

'Nev' is suddenly a couple of feet away from me. His large sausage fingers strike for my neck.

Time slips into a snail-like pace, like a drop of water trickling down a five-story building.

You know how every nerve cell in your body travels so fast in a matter of milliseconds, sending chemicals into your brain to process any surrounding stimuli before they send electrical signals to every part of our body?

My mind, completely clear from the haze, feels as alert as the time I took 5 espresso shots in one sitting.

My body is tense, vigilant and primed to work on nothing but instinct. And, within those precious milliseconds, I dodge.

I grab 'Nev's hand before they make an impact on any part of my body. Using the amount of force he puts in, times the force of gravity, I twist his hand until it breaks.

A satisfyingly sickening crunch follows.

He howls in pain.

I overlook it and swerve for a roundhouse kick — right to his nose. CR-R-RACK!

I close my eyes and bask myself in that short moment of victory. A bit of guilt niggles in my stomach, but I tamp it down. After all, I did give them a choice.

'Nev' grabs his nose, stumbling back. "My nose!"

I shrug, crooking my finger back and forth. "I did warn you. I guess you should've listened to me."

What can I say? It's impossible to resist taunting two grown men who make a living terrorizing defenseless girls.

"Carl, stop dicking around and hold her down!" Terry barks. I knew Carl's real name wasn't 'Nev'!

"Way to speak for yourself, Terry! I don't see you flying your fist in my direction!" I huff, barely managing to dodge 'Nev'-slash-Carl's right hook at the last second.

Carl grumbles. "Yeah, what she said!"

Aw, I almost sent a piteous look in his way. Almost.

He makes another grab for me.

I meet him with a powerful push-kick to the center of his chest, making him catch his breath for a bit.

I twist my body, striking the outside edge of my foot to his head. I spin around and kick backward, slightly above his groin.

Carl staggers back, but not before making a last attempt to grab my neck.

I jump back then stomp down on his instep, head-butting him at the soft spot between his jaw and neck.

He grunts in pain and slips.

I take advantage of his brief loss of balance, twisting his arm behind his back into a deadly grip.

He struggles to break my hold, but I wasn't done with him just yet.

The secret sadistic side of me smiles evilly as she decides to come out of her shell.

Just when I thought I had him for a fatal strike, he lets out a big roar, taking me by surprise.

My grip loosens. He wrenches his arm free from my grip. 

I tried to pry my hands away, but I was too late.

He seizes both of my arms in a crushing hold, lifting me easily on his back.

"Oof, what's your secret? Crossfit? Hammer Throwing?" I wheeze behind his ear.

This earns me an underwhelming and unhelpful grunt.

I'm in no way light as a feather, yet he's carrying me like I'm nothing but a half-filled sack of cotton.

I seriously have never felt so underweight in my entire life!

Carl ignores my struggles and continues to run backward.

Uh-oh! I peek behind me, barely registering the wall before my back absorbs the impact for us both. I feel the air getting knocked out of my lungs. My ears vibrate from the shock of the force, every bone in my body rattling. 

I wheeze, trying to recover. Again, I was too late.

Carl continued to push me back to the wall while I had no choice but to brace for impact a few more times.

My teeth accidentally bite the corner of my lip, the taste of rust and salt flooding in my mouth. Waves of shock surge throughout my body, assaulting my sense of bodily control to near-extinction.   

Look at it this way. At least now, maybe my posture will improve!

I silently groan at my half-assed attempt for a positive note. Now's not the time!

I reach for his face. Feeling the area underneath his brow ridge, I stab my fingers directly into his eyes.

He roars in pain, his arms still holding mine. He stumbles blindly, spinning recklessly until I find myself thrown on my back and landing on the cold hard ground.

· · ·

Two Years Ago

Third Floor, The Garage

"I slipped," I cast a feeble smile at him.

Heinrich stands over me, gloved hands on his hips, and not buying my bullshit. "You did after I delivered a successful punch to your face."

I shrug, still sitting on the rubber-matted floor with no plan of getting up. "Yeah, but I slipped on my feet so you managed to punch me in the face."

"A sly attempt at humor won't stop your opponent from beating you. Neither does an excuse," he remarks drily, pulling me up on my feet without breaking a sweat.

He returns to a fighting stance, waiting for me to slip into my own.

I follow involuntarily, wanting to get this spar over and done with.

"I can be funny and kick your ass!" I argue while attempting to sneak an attack by kicking him behind his knees.

"Promises, promises," he taunts.

He easily deflects my kick, catching my leg, and causing me to lose my footing. He threw my leg back before I could fall.

I skip a couple of feet from him while regaining my balance.

"Nothing," he raises a padded hand and points it at me, "is more dangerous than emotions in a fight." He claps both training pads together. "Again!"

I feel a growl gurgling down my throat.

Chill, Ave. Don't let him get to you... no matter how much you want to punch and wreck his smug-looking mug.

I lift my leg and swing my hips towards him in a 45-degree angle kick. "Hi-yah!"

He catches my leg again before it can land any damage on his solar plexus and holds it there.

"Never let your opponent anticipate a single attack. Blunt force is meaningless if you can't concentrate and avert it!" he berates, while I struggle to break free.

He pulls on my leg until I ultimately say goodbye to my equilibrium and land on my ass. 

"I know that, Mr. Miyagi!"* I cry in frustration.

"Then use your head!" he chastises, biting back a harsh breath. "Your anger will always be your opponent's strength!"

Stupid Heinrich!

Come to The Garage, he said. Try a few rounds in the gym, he said. It's gonna be fun, he said.

Question: Where the fuck does the fun begin?!

All throughout the afternoon, I've been doing nothing but performing stunts that even the Ralph Macchio* would be literally caught dead in. I've been sweating (I repeat, SWEATING!), panting, and at the edge of having an asthma attack! (P.S.I don't even have asthma!)

I knew taking that bike would be too good to not have a catch. But, ooh, what a sweet ride it was. 

No, focus, Ave! I mentally slap myself.

Just one more kick or punch. Remember the bet. You don't have to beat him. You just need to land an attack on him. After that, you'll never have to work for him.

Nobody gets to push you around.

Not anymore.

In an ear-deafening silence, my body flies in the air and crashes on the ground.

(To Be Cont.)

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So, Ave can kick some ass, who knew?

This was the first action scene I've ever done, so if you have any suggestions on how to make it better — I'm all ears!

 I've been splitting chaps for about an hour now. Not that, I hate what I'm doing! I love it! — and the absence of complaints just goes to show that nobody's probably reading this (insert self-deprecating laughter!)

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PLAYLIST

Celebrity Skin — Hole

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*[F/N]*

Eau de Dumpster à la L' Idiot — a play on the phrase, "Eau de Toilette" (relatively light perfume or "grooming water"). It literally means "dumpster water with a touch in the manner of idiots". 

Mr. Miyagi — an iconic fictional character from The Karate Kid series who was a former karate master from Japan who eventually trains a young American kid named Daniel.

Ralph Macchio — the actor who played Daniel in The Karate Kid series and Netflix's Cobra Kai series.

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Copyright © 2017 Lei André