Amy E. Sinclair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bitchwithabite) wrote2013-05-16 03:13 am
bitchwithabite) wrote2013-05-16 03:13 am
Challenge to Five
She still had a death grip on the butterfly swords when Laila's body was carried away. It had been a good fight, as Amy had known it would be, and she was barely standing, herself, but watching the life leave the other woman's eyes had taken part of her. She hated taking the life of another human being, regardless of how little she cared for that person; it made her sick to her stomach.
She'd been nervous all week, hadn't even told Clive until last night, and she didn't sleep well. Even wrapped in the secure warmth of a man she dearly cared for, she couldn't sleep. Her exhaustion hadn't mattered. Only in the last few hours before daylight did she manage to finally fall asleep, and even then, it had been rough.
She looked like shit when she arrived in the weapons room, but by the time she'd gone through the warmup she'd been practicing day in and day out for months, she was ready to go. Changing quickly into the compression shorts and tank top she'd been working in since Ethan came home, Amy retrieved the butterfly swords that she had chosen for this challenge, and she entered the ring. Laila Coschette entered from the other side. They bowed to their judges and Face Cards, and then to each other, assumed their stances, and began.
It was all sort of a blur for Amy after that. Her body had been prepared for this more than she really knew, and watching Laila and talking to Jordan to accommodate what she hadn't seen had helped.
The other woman was fast, but she favored her left side. She fought dirty and made multiple attempts on the knees and hips, but Amy knew that and knew how to counter it; after all, she'd used those same techniques most of her life.
She didn't know who took first, second, or even third blood, but she knew that they were both bleeding from multiple injuries, and that the Five had landed a serious, deep slice to her left arm, and another to her right thigh. Every vicious clash of steel weakened her, and she knew that Laila was trying to wear her down.
So Amy took a chance. Instinctively knowing that the other woman was going to go for a final stab into her gut, she swung out at Laila's right arm with her left, while driving the other blade under the sternum and up into the heart, all the way to the hilt. The surprise was apparent on both women's faces when Amy pulled the blade out with as much determination as she'd used when she shoved it in, but she wasn't done. Oh, she wanted to be, but she wasn't. When Laila fell, Amy went with her, sinking to her knees.
She hadn't counted on the other woman being able to move enough to drive a blade into her thigh between muscle and bone. God, it hurt, but that was Laila's last move. With all of her remaining strength, Amy shifted to pin both wrists with her knees, meeting her gaze. If Laila could endure the death, the least Amy could do, as her killer, was watch.
She sat there for several long minutes, even after Laila was officially dead. It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally managed to get to her feet, bloodstained. She didn't hear her victory declared, or that she was now a Five of Spades. She didn't notice much of anything until someone ran to her to bandage her arm and thighs until she could be escorted to a doctor; her injuries weren't going to kill her in the next few minutes, at least.
She'd been nervous all week, hadn't even told Clive until last night, and she didn't sleep well. Even wrapped in the secure warmth of a man she dearly cared for, she couldn't sleep. Her exhaustion hadn't mattered. Only in the last few hours before daylight did she manage to finally fall asleep, and even then, it had been rough.
She looked like shit when she arrived in the weapons room, but by the time she'd gone through the warmup she'd been practicing day in and day out for months, she was ready to go. Changing quickly into the compression shorts and tank top she'd been working in since Ethan came home, Amy retrieved the butterfly swords that she had chosen for this challenge, and she entered the ring. Laila Coschette entered from the other side. They bowed to their judges and Face Cards, and then to each other, assumed their stances, and began.
It was all sort of a blur for Amy after that. Her body had been prepared for this more than she really knew, and watching Laila and talking to Jordan to accommodate what she hadn't seen had helped.
The other woman was fast, but she favored her left side. She fought dirty and made multiple attempts on the knees and hips, but Amy knew that and knew how to counter it; after all, she'd used those same techniques most of her life.
She didn't know who took first, second, or even third blood, but she knew that they were both bleeding from multiple injuries, and that the Five had landed a serious, deep slice to her left arm, and another to her right thigh. Every vicious clash of steel weakened her, and she knew that Laila was trying to wear her down.
So Amy took a chance. Instinctively knowing that the other woman was going to go for a final stab into her gut, she swung out at Laila's right arm with her left, while driving the other blade under the sternum and up into the heart, all the way to the hilt. The surprise was apparent on both women's faces when Amy pulled the blade out with as much determination as she'd used when she shoved it in, but she wasn't done. Oh, she wanted to be, but she wasn't. When Laila fell, Amy went with her, sinking to her knees.
She hadn't counted on the other woman being able to move enough to drive a blade into her thigh between muscle and bone. God, it hurt, but that was Laila's last move. With all of her remaining strength, Amy shifted to pin both wrists with her knees, meeting her gaze. If Laila could endure the death, the least Amy could do, as her killer, was watch.
She sat there for several long minutes, even after Laila was officially dead. It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally managed to get to her feet, bloodstained. She didn't hear her victory declared, or that she was now a Five of Spades. She didn't notice much of anything until someone ran to her to bandage her arm and thighs until she could be escorted to a doctor; her injuries weren't going to kill her in the next few minutes, at least.