Yeeeeeah, imagine this as some bonus content. Just some random shit. A lot longer than the actual chapters, HAHA. Shush Sarah, nobody reads this shit, nobody cares. ANYWAYS, you thought Ida was a cute lil valkyrie? Forget it pal. It's gon get messy. Again, sorry for all my grammatical mistakes.

She felt absolutely useless, just continuing her life like it was a day like any other. Waking the kids in the morning, grocery shopping, doing the laundry, making dinner and going to work. The feeling made her sick. Angry. But Bigby would never accept her help, and neither would Snow. She tightened her jaw. And to be honest, she would probably not be good for anything. She did not have Bigby's knack for detective work. Actually, the only talent they had in common was the violence. And he was putting that behind him. He was going straight. Adapting. It almost made her feel sick.

"Hey ma'am!"

She turned around on her heels, and tugged a lock of hair behind her ear. Three young men approached her from the other side of the street. Their faces were hidden beneath the limited streetlight and big hoods.

She let her eyes scour the street. They were the only four people in the street. And they were guiding her right into the alley behind her.

"It's four am. Isn't it way past your bedtime?"

She took a few steps backwards, stepping in the alleyway, away from sight and the few streetlights.

One of the boys let out a grunt of laughter, while his friend pulled out his gun and pointed it right at her chest. "Your wallet, ma'am. And whatever jewelry you happen to wear. Please."

Ida took yet another couple of steps back into the alley, swallowing and pulling her hands out of her pockets. "At least you're polite, I guess."

The boys subconsciously followed her into the alley, dragging their victim even farther from the street and the occasional car driving past.

Time ticked by in almost complete silence. Then the polite guy with the gun waved it around a little with a giggle.

"Ma'am this is a robbery… don't you want to pull out a pepper spray or something?"

She unbuttoned her jacket, and left it on the lid of a garbage can beside her. "I'm trying to give you a chance here, kid. Go home, kiss your mamma goodnight and get a couple hours of shuteye."

The guys threw a silent glance at each other. She heard the gun cock, and once again it was pointed right at her. "We'll be sure to do that when you've handed over your wallet."

Ida let out a sigh, and bit her lip. "Well, I did try to warn you, didn't I?"

She took advantage of the boys' hesitation, and acted with blinding speed. With help from a garbage can lid, it was almost too easy to knock the gun out of the equation. Before they even had time to react, she bashed one of the guys to the asphalt with the lid.

It was almost too easy. She doubted that any of them had ever been in an actual fight before. The counterattack was from the third boy, a fist coming directly at her face. She easily grabbed it in her delicate, pale hand. The bones cracked under her grip, and he fell to his knees, screaming like crazy. A knee to his head silenced him.

Her heels scratched loudly over the asphalt, as she turned to the last guy. He didn't look so confident without his gun. He was holding his wounded hand, too scared to move or even breathe. She felt her lips curl, and bare her teeth in a smile that were probably anything but pleasant. He finally woke up from his terrified trance, and started fleeing with his tail between his legs.

He could have gotten away, home to his family. Put crime behind him. Maybe get a respectable job, a wife and kids.

She grabbed him by his hair, and yanked him to the ground. He tried to get up, but her stiletto hit him right on the back. They both heard the sound of breaking bones. She licked her lips, and smeared her lipstick.

He tried to roll onto his back, tried to drag himself out of her reach, but he definitely had trouble moving. Maybe he's back was more messed up than she's planed. Humans and their fragility.

She gently turned him around, facing her, and slowly seated herself on top of him. His brown hair was a mess and coated in blood. He had deep brown eyes as well, glossy with tears and the yellow streetlight. Ooh, he had freckles too. To be honest, he was pretty cute. He definitely already had a girlfriend. And he was horrified. Petrified. Too scared to even breathe anything but a shallow panting. She could feel his heartbeat against her thighs.

She placed her bloody hands on his face, placing her thumbs on his eyelids, gentle like a feather.

"Please…" he begged.

"Oh baby, you were warned. You don't get to beg." But his tiny voice made her muscles tremble. He was a young kid, defenseless, lying in a street with soaked pants, and two unconscious, probably dead, friends by his side. Something welled up in her throat. She swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

She removed her thumbs, forcing his eyes open.

"If you say a word about me, you're dead. You get me?"

He didn't answer.

"I mean, it can't be that hard to make up a story. Gang war? A flowerpot falling from a window? I don't really care."

She patted his pale cheek, leaving a red mark, and got up on her feet. Her jacket would hide the bloodstains on her white turtleneck, at least until she came home and got it washed off.

"What a fucking day."