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<span class="mu-r">“Your mind is so loud.”</span> Mary said, a puzzled expression on her face. <span class="mu-r">“You’ve got…alarm bells blaring in there, non-stop! I turned them off for you. Hope you don’t mind.”</span>
Your blood ran cold as you pondered the ramifications of that statement. She knows about your spider sense. And she just…turned it off!? Can she do that!?
Considering how you just ate that last attack, it certainly seems plausible. But if that’s the case, then this fight was no longer in your favor. You would have to end this quickly.
Apparently, Mary thought the same, because all of a sudden, she crossed her arms in front of her face and pulled them apart once more. A storm of jagged metal and razor sharp glass shards flew in your direction as she shattered her own armor. Your heart stopped, and time slowed to a crawl as you began to move.
You avoided the projectiles to the best of your ability, maneuvering your limbs and positioning your extremities with the utmost care and precision that your graceful movements afforded you. It could almost be called graceful, but without your spider-sense, that still meant that you were becoming a human pin cushion.
Glass and metal shards embedded themselves into your arms as you blocked your face, sliced your legs open where your suit wasn’t armored, and sank into insulated portions of your chest. It was all you could to avoid be fileted right then and there. At the very least, you did a very decent job of minimizing the potential damage.
You gritted your teeth, fighting through the pain as you landed back on your feet and rushed back in to clobber Mary. She was surprisingly fast–her blades already moving to intercept you. But you were much faster. Your fist slammed into her now exposed face, sending her flying backwards. She skidded to a halt before she could fall on her ass, and the flames surrounding her began to rise up and lash out at you. You dove through them.
Even as the flickering blaze licked at you exposed flesh, even as the shrapnel dug deeper into your flesh and threatened to slice open a major artery, you kept fighting. Punch after punch, you swung at your opponent with reckless abandon, hitting her fast and hard. She could barely breathe, much less react in time to sneak in a counter attack.
You ignored all other senses, letting everything else fall away as you pursued Mary with a dogged persistence. It somewhat reminded you of your first fight with Matt. How nothing else mattered in the ring. But at the same time, you struggled to find the same purity that you regarded that match with. This didn’t feel like a friendly spar. It felt like you were fighting for your life.
Before you knew it, Mary was on the ground, and you were standing over her broken body, breathing heavily and hurting all over. There was so much blood. Some of it hers, and too much of it yours.
Mary flashed you a weak smile, tinged red with blood. Her hands could barely grip her swords at this point.
(Cont.)
