SMACK!

Mia felt the hand collide with face, teeth gritting in order to try and lessen the impact. What was it Ollie always used to tell her? Oh yeah, don't get hit! It was useful in hindsight obviously, but when you didn't know you were going to get thrown halfway down a street you couldn't really make any promises to yourself. Rules went out the window, along with all neutral thoughts. In the end, it came down to one thing: Self defence. In this game, anything goes - so long as it keeps you alive.

She hadn't been expecting this. She was stopping someone from stealing a car, not murder. But god it hurt! The fact she'd been punched and not noticed it was going to happen hurt more than the actual impact of the fist. She was naïve, and eventually that would be her downfall. Rolling sideways to avoid the next flying fist that was an a bee line for her head, hands reached back into her quiver to find the nearest arrow. An explosive one would be really helpful right about now…or anything sharp for that matter.

Oh bugger. She had the arrows…but where was her bow? Eyes trailed through the darkness to try and pinpoint the single item that was likely to save her life right. The window of opportunity was already there for the wannabe car theif, in her moment of distraction she'd missed another block, and as knuckles grazed her opposite cheek, she couldn't help herself. He'd kill her if she didn't do something.

So she struck out.

With an arrow.

The carbon coated steel was almost dead on target, and although she hadn't looked where she was stabbing, she'd hit his heart. Blood was already flowing freely from the wound, he fell forwards, threatening to impale Mia with the very same arrow and although she managed to get out of the way of the fallen corpse, she was still covered in blood. Her blood. His blood. It was horrible. She looked like she'd spent an entire day in an abatoire. It was only after she'd pushed the fallen criminal away from her that reality finally kicked in. She'd just killed someone.

Again.

Her cheekbone was swollen, her eyes already blackened, and still she felt guilty. It should've been her lying on the floor and not him. Death was a release not a punishment. She should've let him do it, instead of making herself a complete and utter failure. She was backing the wrong side obviously, bad to the bone. That was Mia allover. Tearing the arrow from it's destination, the archer had to suppress the urge to vomit. What was she supposed to do? Go back home and tell everyone how she'd managed to kill someone? Hardly. It wasn't exactly family material.

She did the only thing she could do. She ran and never looked back.

Accidents happen. It's part of life.

Some are just…slightly more messy than others.