After all, enough was enough!
This battle will most likely determine my survival there is no need to hold back.
Pushing to my feet the gaping hold slowly closing I was still too late in avoiding the next attack and was forced to cry out in pain.
Ah, Thoughts are so fast, the images in your mind can flit by displaying an entire day's scenario but in reality asking your body, screaming at it, begging it to react just as fast. Heh.
It is just not possible.
In this situation, I am simply the perfect example.
One hand held me in place, the other two delivered the first punch, second... Fourth... Eighth. I felt the pain of my flesh tearing.
Heard the crush of bone and the rapid healing.
*squelch*
*Bam*
*crack*
Creating a rhythm.
In a way, I hate my mother.
If I count my shells I had died a total of four times.
Split in half then torn apart the first time.