In the darkness the man swung at Izzy with the knife, causing her to cover her arms with her head and scream. Michael grabbed hold of his wrist with inhuman agility, twisting it at such an angle it was painful. His grip was so tight and twist so strong there was a loud CRACK, then a shrill shriek of utmost agony and bone jutting from skin with blood pouring to the concrete ground.
Michael pushed him down, hard, making his spine collide with a sickening SNAP. Like his wrist, it had broken, and instantly killed him.
Izzy dare to sneak a peek, sighting the man's dead body and cautiously removing her arms from her head, biting her lip to keep it from quivering in fear; she didn't believe he was dead.
She looked up to the unemotional Michael. "Did you do him in?" she asked politely, hope shining in her eyes. Michael lowered his head to look to her, and nodded only once.
Izzy beamed with a bright smile. "Really?" Michael nodded again, making Izzy spin around and wrap herfrail arms around one of his legs, hugging him tightly. She was no longer crying.
After being fairly suprised Michael bent down, gently picking her up and setting her lightly on his shoulders. She crossed her arms atop his head, keeping her balance.
With that Michael turned, lumbering back down the sidewalk toward the old, withering house at the end of the street; the Myers' House.