A/N Hi! Okay so this is my first time on fanfiction and it would truly be lovely to have some feedback (and a beta for those of you interested). Anyway without further hesitation welcome to my Maximum Ride...couldn't resist being a little cheesy.
Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish, I sadly do not own Maximum Ride.
Max POV
I never liked fighting, although my temper would suggest otherwise. I'll admit that there is some perverse pleasure in winning, but the guilt of harming another overrules the sadistic part of my brain. At least I hold enough shreds of humanity to not be doing this for enjoyment. At least I am not like the people in the crowd jeering for more blood. At least I am still Maximum Ride, and not just a ruthless killer. I hope.
The sweet tang of metal engulfed me, breaking my silent plea of atonement. I snarled at the boy who was audacious enough to draw my blood. He smirked back at me. I had to stop the urge to leap out and tear out his throat with a serrated knife. Killing the brother of my target would blow my cover. As if the boy could sense my inner turmoil of the whether to kill him or not, he began taunting me.
"Not so tough are we now, little miss prissy" he goaded. I could hardly contain my rage; but instead of responding with words, I attacked him with the steel of my blunt sword.
"The first rule of sword fighting, Master Dylan, is to never let your guard down" I stated flatly as I deftly pinned him to the wall. My anger took a hold of me and made my movements much too quick, and much too precise to be that of the simple fencing teacher I was posing as.
"I see that you've been holding back on me Maxie-Pie, I'm shocked because I thought I explicitly told you that I like my girls rough." He replied arrogantly.
I pressed my blade a degree harder into his vulnerable flesh, "I think your little endearments should be left for those who hold interest in you, so on that note you will only refer to me as Mistress Ride" I snarled. Dylan's cocky demeanor evaporated as he frantically shook his head yes. I held his gaze for a fraction of a second longer before proclaiming "Class Dismissed." I lowered my sword and allowed him to scamper past me, I watched his hand tighten on his hilt as he foolishly tried to catch me by surprise. Emphasize the word "tried," by the time he rallied the courage to strike me I was already in a fighting stance. The familiar strum of a battle pulsed through my veins, but it was short lived, seeing that the boy, Dylan, was disarmed in a matter of seconds. "Rule number two, never fight against somebody who can beat you."