They proceeded to duke it out. Blow for blow, blood splattered across the floor in their battle of endurance and strength. The night like shaded arena was completely blurred. She could taste the blood, hear the audience scream, feel the disparity. Due to her bleed based abilities, however, pain was unachievable. In a rapid heartbeat, she found herself back against the cage. Her red painted face dripped as she watched the blue eyed Cain glare into her soul.

“How’s that?” He blurted as crimson ooze slipped from his mouth.

The girl unbelievably smirked, “That was awesome.”

She reached and gripped his humongous hand. She dug her nine functional fingers into his pressure points and slammed her feet into his rib below. He staggered back, gasping fir air as the girl fell to the ground. Between the black dots that blocked her vision, the image of blood and urine splattered floor entered her head. She could feel the sweat and blood all over her. Any and all thoughts of anything was gone as she shook. Was she insane for enjoying this? Was she psychotic?

Cain pulled the hammer off his back as she staggered to her shaking feet. He smiled a crooked grin, raising the hammer in an untrained, yet experienced, overhead slammer.

-Suddenly – out of nowhere –

-A third, cloaked and hooded, figure leapt from the cage. She neatly filled the gap between the two, her lithe frame barely seeming to handle the hand in a half sword on her back. Her entire outfit was made of sloppy, black rags. Armor hung off her like the plates on a giant lizard. Her uninvited interruption left the announcer in shambles as she pulled the sword down. Her cloak flowed just as pain finally hit the berserker she seemed to protect. Felicity actually screamed, the agony was so severe. She collapsed. Cain awkwardly pointed to her as she freed her damascus blade from its sheath, “Uh, you are?”

Mismatched eyes, one blue and the other burgundy, blankly looked up to him, “Nothing important.”

In a strict as unpredictable and speedy as a bolt of lightning, she struck. Cain suddenly exclaimed, the sword embedded into his heel. She spoke in a cold, surprisingly somber, tone. “You’ll live. You’ll heal. I just needed to end this quickly. For her.” She yanked the sword out with a heave. As she gasped for breath, obviously malnourished and physically weak, the fighter collapsed onto his back. The woman, within the shocked silent of the crowd, cleaned her blade with a cloth. She turned just in time for Felicity to lay eyes on her.

The face was instantly recognizable.

The woman frowned, “For your own good, get out. You could get killed in this club.”

The redhead’s mouth gaped open as she left as quickly as she came. Which direction and how, she was way too discombobulated and pained to have a clue.

Her blurred vision doubled before she passed out.