Hello again! Here's the next chapter. It was more difficult for me to write for a number of reasons. 1) I am writing this for fun and happy times and having a serious fight scene was...well it needed to be done but I didn't feel like taking the time to do it. I'm lazy sometimes, so sue me. 2) I have not written a fight scene in, I kid you not, over four years.

Enjoy!


I wish I could say my first reaction was some sort of epic battle cry. But alas, it was not.

I froze. Three full grown men, charging like star quarterbacks, heading straight for me? I was going to get my ass kicked.

I don't know what brought my eyes to look down at the ground below me. Perhaps it was some sort of divine intervention? Or perhaps I just felt like checking to see if my shoes were tied before I died? The end result was the same. I saw dirt. There was dirt everywhere, as though it had been swept into the alley from the surrounding buildings and left to sit for decades.

I swear the men must have faltered a bit when they saw me smile as I looked back up at them. I can only imagine how I must have appeared; about to be in some serious shit, eyes glinting demonically in the shadows as I grinned.

When they were but two steps from me I dropped to the ground, latched on to the new sense I had carried around since that morning, and raised my hands swiftly to the sky.

A cloud of brown filth leaped up in an untidy wall, striking all three men in the face. I rolled hurriedly out of the way as they stumbled into one another, my back striking the brick of the surrounding building.

They were coughing and sputtering, but I had no time to watch them. As quickly as I could I darted over to the injured girl. Perhaps girl was not the most accurate of terms—she appeared to be a bit older than myself. She was curled into a fetal position, her eyes closed and breathing erratic.

"Hey….hey are you alright?" I touched her shoulder as gently as I could. Her muscles seized and eyes flew open, gazing terrified into my own.

She made no motion to respond, shaking beneath my hand. Hurriedly I fumbled in my pocket for my cell phone, only to grasp stray lint balls.

Shit.

A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed my suspicion, my tiny phone had fallen out as I evaded the stumbling attackers.

"Over there!"

My head jerked up as I realized the dirt cloud had cleared and the men regained their senses, stalking over to where I was crouched.

Double shit.

Without turning away from the men I spoke to the terrified girl. "If you can walk, get out of here and call for help." I didn't know if she had a phone on her or not, but goodness it was the 21st century and she was clearly a student—the Universe was surely in my favor on this matter.

I felt her nod beside me. Maybe my imagination decided to give me some hope at that moment and she didn't actually react at all. Regardless, the possibility of help gave me courage enough to stand.

"You think you're funny, girlie? Messing with our fun? Playing hero? Who do you think you are?" The leader growled, his voice scratchier now than earlier. I took some pride in that fact.

And this is where I know I must have lost my mind.

My back straightened, my lips curved into a smile, and a single, short laugh rang out through the alleyway.

"You're worst nightmare."

I guess I get a little cocky in the middle of a fight. And I'd always wanted to say that.

It gave the man pause. Just a moment, hardly an eyeblink. But it was enough. He was within kicking range, and my blood pounded with its desire for action.

I charged forward, my right leg coming up in a swift round house kick, missing his body by a clear margin. I like to think he laughed at that point, thinking I couldn't even aim a good kick. He most certainly didn't see the follow up crescent kick aimed straight for his head.

And he definitely didn't see the ground coming up to meet his face as he fell, unconscious.

I let out a short, triumphant shout as I shifted into fighting stance, back leg bouncing with anticipation.

The fight was on, and they were mine.

If I had a penny for every curse word that ran through my head that night, I would be a rich woman.

Needless to say, the initial rush of the fight was exhilarating. It was difficult to distinguish between my fear and my excitement. Once I thought that I was a bit of a pacifist—preferring to run and survive than fight and risk it all. But the truth was, on that very night, I had the bloodlust.

I wanted them to pay for what they had done to that girl, who was likely not the first nor the last of their victims. I wanted to mete out the justice they might never see otherwise.

I was angry, and the girl was still in danger. I had to do something. I conveniently forgot at that time about my own danger. But don't worry, the Universe reminded me pretty soon.

Adrenaline fed courage into my mind and heart as I stood before the attackers. One was groaning on the ground, alive but not getting up any time soon. As for the other two, they had no need for adrenaline to urge themselves forward. Seeing their leader and friend slap the ground was more than enough to get the ball rolling.

Barely a single breath passed between my first kick, and the shorter man's first punch.

Warmed and ready, I pivoted left, evading his fist even as my back shin came up to smack him in the gut. A loud whoosh of air was forced from his mouth, close enough to tickle my cheek.

My leg came down from the kick and I pivoted again, this time towards the right, chambering my left hand for a strike.

I could feel the fluidity in my muscles as the outside ridge of my hand and thumb snapped up to meet his jawbone with a solid smack.

Pain, sharp and steady, exploded in my hand. I quickly retreated two steps farther into the alley. Still in kicking range, out of punching range. Safe.

Shit. No one ever mentions how much it hurts hitting someone!

With a gasping breath I collected myself. As much as my hand would surely bruise, my opponent was clearly worse off, spitting blood onto the pavement.

Great. Injured and pissed off. Animals are always more dangerous when injured.

Three solid hits and I was pretty darned proud of myself. So proud in fact, that I didn't register the hulking body of Animal #2 until his shoulder slammed my smaller body against the brick wall.

The ragged edges of stone crunched against my skull as my eyes involuntarily slammed shut.

My opponent wasted no time in driving his fist into my stomach, driving the breath from my lungs. If there was anything to be thankful for in that moment, it was that my eyes were forced back open and, blessedly, my eyesight was present and accounted for.

Unfortunately the only thing my poor eyes could behold was the bulky, sweating mass that was the larger of the two remaining attackers.

He took a step backward as I sank slowly towards the ground, arms wrapped around my middle. I thought I had respite, until the boot of the smaller man, the one I'd struck in the face, made a direct hit with my thigh.

Groaning I collapsed the rest of the way to the ground, falling sideways against the wall.

The men were saying something to me, but it felt as if it were far away, too far for my small ears to pick up.

My body felt like it was on fire. A deep throbbing settled in my gut, and no amount of gasping breathes properly refilled my lungs. I could feel something warm dripping down the back of my shirt, too thick and heavy to be sweat.

I tried to stand, but my muscles would not react. Only one thing clearly cut across the pain, terror.

The night, which had been my friend until that moment, enveloped the two hulking figures above me in ominously petrifying darkness.

For whatever reason, not being able to see their faces scared me more at that moment than the fists and legs coming hurtling towards me.

Something struck my shoulder, another my shin. My bruised back was jolted against the wall.

Was I going to die here?

No.

I recall wondering at the kind, deep voice which reassured me then. But surely I was hallucinating, it was merely my own internal voice, refusing to give up.

Nonetheless, something snapped within me.

A fire flared to life somewhere deep within myself. At the fringes of my awareness I felt a breeze pick up in the alleyway where still air sat before.

My eyes widened as the attackers readied themselves for another round of "free punching bag".

"No." My voice whispered.

Instinctively, I thrust out my hands, pushing all my resolve, physical and emotional, into that single movement.

A rush of wind exploded outward from my body, slamming full force into the men's bodies, pitching them into the opposite wall.

They collapsed onto the pavement, neither moving an inch.

Take a deep breath, Mairin. That's right, girl. It's alright.

That's what I told myself, at least. Looking at my trembling hands however, I knew nothing was "alright."

Using the wall as a support, I levered myself into a standing position and hobbled over to the bodies.

Bodies. God, please let them be alive.

I could feel panicked tears start to form and took a deep breath. I had to stay calm. If only for five more minutes, I had to stay calm.

My knees cracked as I bent down, placing my fingers on the pulse of one of the men's neck. A slow but steady beat nearly caused tears to fall again.

Looking at the other fallen opponent, I steeled myself once more to check his pulse.

Alive, as well.

A quiet sob escaped me. I hadn't killed them.

However another sound stilled my rush of relief. Sirens, distant but growing louder.

The girl! My eyes darted around the alley, but couldn't find the girl in any of the shadows. But there, just where the main street met the dark backstreet, was the standing figure of the young woman, one hand over her mouth, the other holding a cell phone to her ear.

Thoughts, numerous and jumbled, flashed through my mind at once. She was safe. She'd called the police. The police were on their way. I'd taken out three men, all twice my size or more, and she'd seen it all. She'd seen what I'd done. All of it.

And for what seemed like the millionth time in that short 24 hour period, I panicked.

One minute I was standing, dumbstruck in the middle of the alley, the next I was sprinting—as fast as an injured woman could—in the direction opposite the sirens.

How was I going to get myself out of this mess now?


Alright, up next Mairin reflects on just how she got herself out of this sticky situation and ends up fighting for justice from rooftops over a month later.

Also up next but farther in the future: some more fight scenes. Because I miss being able to write them. Also more fun, because the semester is starting and god do I need a stress reliever. Oh yeah, and the biggie, NARNIA is coming up soon! :)

And I do choreograph the fights, both in my mind and physically. I debating on using specific names (more often) for strikes and kicks but decided to try and describe it instead.

+dares+