Chương 30: Cat Fight

Her thumb pushed the gun's hammer, clicking it in place, echoing like a dropped pin in silence. All she needed now was just a simple squeeze of the trigger. A black tunnel pointed straight between my eyes; at any moment, a bullet could come hurtling out to lodge into my skull. I pulled air into my lungs, and glared down the barrel. Purple Lipstick's molars were visible as her grin stretched into an open mouth, still laughing.

The corners of her thickly lined eyes tilted up, giving her the look of a sadistic cat playing with her prey. Pain spread across my forehead, the woman's face froze, and the man lying on the ground stopped shaking. I swung a leg up and kicked, pushing the gun out of her hand. It followed along with my foot until turning over and then hung still in the air, four feet from us. Chopstick poised in front of me, I rushed forward, eyes targeted on the edge of collarbone that peeked out of her scoop necked shirt.

The exact point I needed was just visible. I thrust the stick straight, feeling it rub against bone. There was no dot to go by to see if I'd gotten it right and by the time my hand dropped, the world had unpaused. The gun hit the ground with a loud clank somewhere to the left, purple nails flew across my vision, and then I felt the punch against my cheekbone. My body tripped backwards, hitting against the hard ground.

WWE's woman's biceps were no joke; pretty sure I'd be looking for my teeth on the floor after this. Unless of course I was dead. She held a hand to her collarbone, wincing.

"What kind of speedster uses their power to poke people with chopsticks? Are you psycho or just dumb?!" My vision wobbled as my brain throbbed. Everything had two or three extra copies of themselves and I shook my head to try to clear it up. It just made me nauseous. I pushed back up to stand as she rubbed the spot I'd hit with the arm I'd tried to disable. Obviously, that didn't work. Still, without the gun staring at me ready to blow, I could take more time to do the things I needed to do.

My forehead twinged as I stood with my legs spread wide, hands beginning to softly wave in front of me, breathing deeply. The woman's amber eyes snapped back to me, taking in my stance and then started shaking her head.

"Oh, sweetie, you must be new," she scoffed in a Long Island accent.

"Can't even go more than one round before you tire out, huh? Now you're gonna try to what- swoosh me with your tiny little hands? What are you doing?" She started laughing again. The buildings on either side of me were walls of dark trees, the tips of their branches rising high into the air. Puddles on the asphalt were small streams, the spaces in between them where rocks piled high. The guy groaning on the ground was a deer resting in an alcove's shade. My hands whirled in slow circles all around me.

A bubble formed quickly between them and I made sure to keep my limbs loose and easy in order to not pop it. That's when her fist headed for my face. But I was in soft mode. For the past two weeks I'd been practicing slow movements, and I'd watched Laushu use them in fighting. So I raised a hand just in time for her arm to slide against it, pushing it away from my head instead of letting it smash into it. It went easily; I batted it away just like I would a fly.

If that fly were a hundred and sixty pounds and really intent on hurting me. Her body lurched as her hand met open air, and I stepped back so that she stumbled. When her head raised, eyebrows pinched and breath huffing, she wasn't laughing anymore.

"Got a little mosquito here, don't we? You know, I like mosquitos. But I like them best when they're smashed up against a wall!" A black boot kicked up aiming for my stomach. I swung my right arm down and shoved it away. Her leg was stronger than her arm so the bones in my forearm stung where they pushed against her shin, and my whole body skidded backwards. She lost her balance, tipping to the side and landing in a cloudy brown puddle that splashed over us.

I stared down at her for a second, in shock of what I had accomplished. Slowly, my hands began swirling around again, staying in my soft zone. There she was lying prone on the ground, a perfect target. I could try to stop time and disable her arm again, but I hadn't practiced having an opponent down low like that before. Mr. Cheng, you were wrong about that one. I could kick her face.

The Muay Thai guy had made some good points about slamming your opponent in the head, but my mind was filled with broken-necked criminals and I hesitated. The guy on the ground, Ben, stumbled to his feet and jetted out of the alley. Purple Lipstick pressed her hands into her muddy puddle, raising herself up. Her head turned to me, black mascara dripping down her cheeks, teeth clenched in a sneer.

"Great, you let him get away! Looks like I'm going to have to make an example out of you." She rushed at me from the ground, boots crunching against gravel, legs lunging. Her arms flung out on either side of her. No punches, no kicks for me to deflect. She was just going to railroad me into the brick wall two feet behind me until my brains were flat as a pancake. My shaking chopstick raised into position, head still aching from before. I glared at her until my skull felt like it was split in two.

Her hands raised to her chest, about to push me back, but then everything went silent and stilled. She stood five inches from me, purple nails high, a tiger caught in mid-pounce. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, connecting myself to my tool. When I opened them, I struck. The body of Mr. Cheng's dummy formed in my mind and I laid it over hers. That tiny little dot was embedded into my memory after staring at it for hours.

Now I could see it on her skin, right below her collarbone. The chopstick hit and my hand skidded off her chest. I stumbled one step to the side before time returned. Her body propelled forward, tripping over my leg still in the way and smacking against the wall in front of her. Good thing she'd had her hands out before to buffer it. Well, one hand. The other was hanging limp at her side, completely useless. My mouth dropped open.

I'd done it, I'd blocked the chi in her meridian till it was backed up like Ashland Avenue on a Friday night. Unfortunately, she did not look like she wanted to join in the celebrations. Her teeth were bared, black smudged eyes popping out of her head as she turned to glare, looking like a possessed Bratz doll.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO TO ME?!" Her working hand pointed to the "between jobs" one hanging beside her. I held up a finger of comfort.

"It comes back in an hour." She screamed her rage. Her fingers dove to her belt where a small container was strapped on. She took it out and gave it a brief, ferocious shake. It had a small nozzle on one end. Just like the one the purple hulk huffed while attacking Mr. Cheng…

"No–" My feet shuffled backward. Her teeth clenched as she grinned, lips so taut they might split.

"Wait till you see, just wait–" I rushed forward, eyes zeroed in on the bottle in her fingers. My left hand dove for it, but she twisted her body and shoulder-checked me back. All the air left my chest as her bones poked into my lungs. She brought the inhaler to her mouth. Just a second's paused time and it could be knocked away. But as soon as my forehead contracted, a match lit inside my brain and set the whole thing on fire.

My body dropped, hands clutching at my head, which held nothing but searing hot flames now. A scream slid out of my mouth and I tasted blood as it dripped down my lips. Laughter, distorted and electric, filled the narrow space. My neck strained to force my head up, blurry eyes trying to focus. The woman stood looking at her hand, except you couldn't really call it that anymore. Her fingers were engorged, nails thickened and curved to sharp points, like a cat's claws or a hawk's talons.

Luckily, she didn't sprout any anthropomorphic additions. Getting murdered in an alley by a muscle mommy cat girl would be too much to bear. She twisted her clawed hand back and forth in front of her face, staring at it like that kid in gym who ate shrooms then threw up. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, pupils jumping crazily in her sockets.

"You're… dead." There was a flash of movement as she leapt across the space between us and her claws lashed out. My arm thrust forward to block, still clutching the chopstick. Mr. Cheng would not be pleased. There was no circular motion to deflect the blow that I had practiced for hours, just a scared kid shoving out a hand to stop the monster. Her claws dug into the flesh of my fist as she batted it aside and my only weapon went flying. I stumbled backwards, looking down to see red serrated streaks down my hand.

My chopstick clinked as it bounced against the pavement, rolling behind her. Why didn't I think to get more? Oh yeah, because up until an hour ago, I'd had no plans to go around trying to fight medically-boosted mutants in the darkest alleyways of Chicago. If I lived through this, I was going to get a whole set; cover myself from head to toe in chopsticks so that I never ran out. Unfortunately, it didn't look like that was going to happen.

Cheetah Girl stood there licking my blood off her nails, mouth curved in relish, eyes still shaking.

"Mmm, are you O positive? Or maybe A negative. I'll have to try more before I can tell." She looked at me and her tongue swiped over her lips. Okay, I was not going to be eaten by a crazy cat lady. Not without a fight at least. The stick wasn't my only weapon. I had defense training, super powers, and the fingers I should be using instead of an eating utensil anyway. So I took a step back and assumed my stance, legs bent and hands shaping circles in the air. Cheetah dashed forward.

She was fast, much faster than before the animalistic vape session. Her clawed hand was a blur as it raced for my eye, but my arm jutted up and I swept it aside with the back of my wrist. She might be faster, but she still only had one arm. A screech of fury sounding like a high pitched lion erupted from her lungs. Her nails shot out; I brought up a hand to block her, and she cut into my forearm, piercing through my shirt sleeve to the skin that she could access before I knocked her hand aside.

Over and over again, as fast as she could, she would strike and I would redirect, barely keeping her razor sharp talons from ripping through my throat. But, her claws clipped into my hands and arms each time until they were covered in red ripped flesh. I was holding her off, but it was a losing battle. The smallest of movements made every laceration sting and the tatters of my blue shirt sleeves were now stained crimson. Death by a thousand cuts was still death.

At any second, the slash of her claws could cut open my stomach or slice an artery and then blood would firehose its way out of me. Only Mr. Cheng's lessons kept me alive, but they wouldn't for much longer. Pain still reverberated in the back of my head, but the burn of every slice on my blood soaked arms was quickly replacing it. I should have kicked her in the face when I had the chance. This chick deserved whatever smashed in nose or detached eyeball she would have got.

She kicked out a leg against mine, causing me to stumble forward and then, quick as lightning, her claws raced towards my throat. Here it was. The final game over and I could only watch as it came for me. Adrenaline rocketed through my veins, stiffening my muscles, energizing my bones. My eyes closed as a mushroom cloud of agony bloomed behind them. When they opened, the world was still, her psychotic face frozen in a snarl, and her nails barely touched my neck. I should have turned and ran right there.

But maybe I wasn't human anymore either because there were no thoughts, only movement. Using all the force of my body, I smashed a punch into her face. Cartilage crunched against my knuckles as my fist connected to her nose. Her stiff body fell backwards to the ground, and mine followed on top. Every brain cell electrocuted itself as my mind tried to work. I blinked my eyes, but the world stayed a hazy, blurred mess. I raised a shaking hand up and extended two fingers.

There was a dot on her collarbone with the little Chinese symbols next to it. Either she had a tattoo showing where to attack her chi point or I was hallucinating. My hand dove down and struck right on target. A sickening crack filled the air and my fingers bent in ways they were never meant to. My throat burst with a scream, the noise echoing off the buildings. Traffic sounded in the distance again, signaling the return of time and the fact that no one was coming to help me.

Cat Girl's eyes blinked below me, then slid to slits. Her talons raised to wrap around my neck and squeezed.