Her body was utterly flooded with information. It seemed that Mr. Military was far more trained and skilled than she initially thought. No one she was having a difficult time with taking him down. As she held onto his arm, dodging and maneuvering around attempts to disengage her, Agnes felt all of it clawing its way into her brain. It was like slipping on a one-size-fits-all glove, feeling tight at first but slowly it settled in, growing more accustomed to the sensation, stretching out until it fit to utter perfection.

She learned it all. Each person had a unique fighting style, even if it was something that they were taught. While it was uncomfortable for Agnes whenever she used her abilities in this way, in matters like this, she was willing to push through it. She dug deep into his cells, pulling every bit of information that she could, learning immediately what skill level he possessed and the manner in which he used its fighting talents.

After thirty seconds, she had all of it and it was quite telling. A punch landed against his shoulder which made him flinch and nothing more. Quickly her mind adapted, flipping to the new rolodex card that she had just gained from him. Her mind was a momentarily whirl, snapping into place and a posture that he should find familiar. When he lashed out, striking with a volley of punches and low kicks, Agnes already knew it was coming. She stepped back, dodged and weaved. She was only barely dodging around them as the man was faster and hit harder, but Agnes had an edge now: she was a step ahead.

Combat was a dance. No matter how it was mixed up or what skill level it was at. Some things were just inherently known. Things became familiar, like a dance with steps that could be memorized. Agnes, having the wealth of Mr. Military’s experience meant that she could see what he was doing before he did it, through physical cues and experience. He wouldn’t be surprising her anymore – at least not in the middle of a fight.

A punch was thrown out at her and Agnes dodged again, only this time she flipped towards him, rolling her back along the length of his outstretching arm, her own arched until she came with distance where she whipped her first into a devastating arch, seeking to make a solid connection with the side of his hardened face. She was clearly done playing games now.

The woman had been good. Easily one of the most technically correct fighters he’d ever encountered. That did not explain how she suddenly was dodging all of his strikes. He was moving inhumanly fast, but she was starting the dodge ahead of the strike like she knew it was coming.

Could she see moments into the future? That didn’t explain why suddenly she could do what she was doing. Maybe her taking anything the Ranger dished out to keep contact was related.

There was no time to consider the matter further as the woman switched to take on the offensive. Following a dodge the woman sprang into action. It was efficient and the Ranger had just enough time to start moving away. Had he not been moving as fast as he was it would have hit him solidly on the side of his face. Instead he was moving backward when it contacted his skull.

It still hurt, a lot. Even when mitigated a good punch to the head can ring a bell.

Ranger back pedaled as his eyes refocused. Now he was mad. A quick step forward and he swung a left hook, only as it came closer he swung it short and transferred the momentum into bringing his right leg around in a roundhouse that whistled through the wind.

The guy was good. Every skillset that she got from him via touch was soaking into her body and she found herself surprised by exactly how much this guy knew. Though she could not see context or where he had used these skills before, she could feel every punch, every kick, every form of combat the man mixed together to call it his own. Mr. Military certainly had the experience and now she was going to use every last bit of it against him.

The one thing she didn’t realize was that he was a mutant. That fact was blatantly clear now. He used his mutation when he fought, increasing his strength and his speed. No wonder he had proved to be so fast earlier. Normally that would wipe the floor with her, but considering that she had his combat experience, she knew what was coming just as he performed it. it was just enough to allow her to move and dodge preemptively. Now that she knew what he could do, she just needed to take the offense.

He had been thrown off by her moves and, upon throwing a punch, Agnes performed some interesting acrobatics by rolling her back across the outside of his arm and throwing her fist down in a devastating arch. Her fist connected, though not exactly where she would have liked. The jaw would have been preferable, something to knock him off guard, maybe even dislocate it and cause it further pain. But his speed again caught her as he dipped back, her fist only colliding with the brunt of his skull.

Oh, it would still hurt, just not as much as she would have initially liked. At least that set his bells ringing.

Agnes landed deftly upon her two feet, fists up and eyes narrowed. Mr. Military was dazed, but only briefly. All the experience she sapped from him urged her to keep pushing him. Don’t let him breathe. Don’t let him collect himself. If she didn’t then that was time he would use to catch his second wind. Agnes was never one to ignore her senses – so she didn’t

She pushed in just as he threw a left hook, one which she could see was cut short. Instinctively she dropped and rolled, underneath his leg so that she was popped up behind him. Flipping onto her feet, Agnes reached for a tomahawk on her belt. Her hands found nothing though and she grumbled. There were drawbacks to taking another person’s fighting skill, especially if they used weapons that weren’t usually on her. Instead she threw a low kick, aimed for the back of the man’s leg, hoping to make him drop to one knee as she whipped around, an elbow aimed for the side of his head.

Distracted and unfocused. That was the key. So over and over she repeated in her head: Don’t let him breathe... Don’t let him think... Don’t let him react…

In retrospect, a roundhouse kick was a mistake. While he was a Ranger he wasn’t Walker Texas Ranger. The kick would have caught anyone else unaware, the speed of it was incredible. The woman dropped and rolled under it. Which following how the last few seconds had gone, should have been expected.

Having just had his bell rung, the quick spin left the Ranger off balance when he recovered from the kick. A strike to the head plus a very quick spin is not a good combination. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

Had it worked though it would have been find.

Both feet on the ground Ranger saw the woman stop just long enough to reach for something that wasn’t on his belt. It looked like where he carried a tomahawk when he did. She was thinking about reaching for a weapon. This was escalating quickly, he’d have to draw his appendix carry SIG P226 soon if this kept up. Maybe producing a firearm would back her down.

His only worry was if he drew the gun and she predicted the movement she’d end up with it or send it sailing.

The woman pressed the assault again before he had fully recovered. She kicked at the back of his leg. The problem with moving fast is that when you stop momentum wants to keep you moving. Fast motion means slow recovery from it when you stop. He saw the kick coming but couldn’t get his leg out of the way in time.

Down Ranger went onto one knee, his arm coming up to block the elbow just before it impacted his skull. It was close, had he not had his speed boosted by his power it would have hit its mark.

A strike with his other hand and then he was springing up to his feet and backpedaling for a few steps of distance. He needed a plan. He settled on grappling the next time her hands came in close. Bring the woman in close where she can’t dodge everything.

The tides were turning. Agnes could feel it in the pit of her stomach. As he moved and she responded in kind, she could feel the change in the air happening. She was predicting his movements, staying one step ahead but just barely. The man was still fast, and he was strong, but she was still able to land blows. That was all that mattered right now. She may not be able to knock him out with one punch, but she was going to make sure that each strike that landed would slowly chip away at the man; after all, a drop of water can drill through a mountain given enough time. But did she have that much time.

He dropped to knee, thrown off guard by his own boosted speed. She whipped around, seeking to drive her elbow into the side of his head. If she could keep his brain rattling, that’ll be enough for her to keep making harder and harder strikes, but it seemed that he still had enough of his facilities to stop her elbow from landing. Frustration started to swell in Agnes as she made for another move, but was thrown off guard by a punch that had landed, causing her to wince and step back.

Mr. Military was up again, putting distance between the two of them. As she recovered from the hit, Agnes ground her teeth as she set her eyes upon him. She couldn’t let him breathe for too long. Once he got himself centered, he would be far more dangerous that she would like, even though she could read his body movements. He was an open book to her, combat wise, but the advantage she had was only of the slimmest caliber. If she didn’t want to lose this fight, she needed to keep pushing.

A growl on her lips and Agnes charged. She moved fast, her rolodex flipping between a combination of acrobatics and capoeira as she zig-zagged, jumping off a nearby wall before tumbling into a flaring handstand, lashing out with both arching legs in an attempt to land a kick. Unfortunately the man was far bigger than she would have liked and she found herself getting just a fraction of an inch closer than she would have liked.

She only hoped she hadn’t gotten herself too close to be grabbed by him…

The punch connected, it had given the Ranger the moment he needed to make some distance. He could see the frustration growing on the woman’s face. Perhaps she wasn’t use to someone putting up such a fight.

She growled and jumped back into an acrobatic attack like she had used before to her success. This time it wasn’t novel. It was still difficult to track, but that was more due to the hit to his head than confusion from her movements.

When the woman moved into a handstand and moved to kick, the Ranger shot forward cutting off her ability to extend her legs for the kick, and took hold of her. He let the momentum carry the pair of them forward onto the ground where he moved with all the speed his power could give him to shift into a rear naked choke. His back on the ground.

Putting the woman unconscious now would end the fight before one of them was seriously hurt. He could put her down, return the purse, and then make sure the woman left okay. She thought she was helping, it wouldn’t be right to leave her to get mugged or worse after he choked her out.

She was stupid. She should have known better than to perform a move like this for this man. While she had him on the ropes before, he got enough distance to allow himself a chance to breath and that was going to be her mistake. She shouldn’t have allowed it. She should have kept pressing. But while she ran at him, flipping, leaping off the walls, and slipping into a form that was more unpredictable and possessed more of a flourish, it cost her.

A step forward and he seized her leg. She was already cursing under her breath and she quickly slipped back into his fighting style and knew exactly where he was going. He tried to put her into a rear naked choke. She would only have seconds if she allowed his arm to wrap around her throat so, tucking her chin down and jutting her hand up, she denied him complete access as the duo tumbled to the ground.

He was strong but he still had weak spots. Effectively keeping him from choking her out, Agnes let her rage building as she brought her one free leg up and slammed the heel several times onto his knee, hoping to cause him enough pain to release her, allowing her to slam her head back into his face. She was no longer fighting with finesse, she was fighting like a beast and she was going to win by any means necessary.

The rear naked choke was perfect, but the woman had acted perfectly to mitigate it. Her chin came down so he couldn’t get as good of a purchase and her hand transferred force away from her neck. This means he would just have to squeeze tighter.

As he compressed his choke hold harder and harder the woman drove her heel into his knee several times. And his kneecap decided it didn’t want to stay where it was supposed to. As the heel came down it drove on the side of the patella and tore several tendons as it moved under the force of the impact.

It hurt. A lot.

Ranger reflexively released the pressure on the woman. This was a mistake as she immediately slammed her skull into his face. His eyes watered and his nose crunched. Blood began to pour from it as he moved the arm he used to lock in the choke and tried to drive his palm into the woman’s face.

It took a few hits with her heel but, eventually, she managed to dig in deep enough to cause a painful reaction from him. Agnes was getting close to rabid now. She didn’t like being held, and being trapped like this only made everything all the worse. So she kicked and kicked and kicked until finally she felt something pop. Mr. Military immediately responded, growling as his grip loosened around her neck. Not giving him the benefit of the doubt, she slammed her head backwards, into his skull until she felt cartilage crunch.

There. His grip was loosening. She breathed a deep breath and attempted to get away but the man was clearly not going to let her go without even more of a struggling. Their wrestling only continued to drive the woman closer and closer to the brink. She was practically foaming at the mouth now, her scarf pushed down, away from her face as she struggled for escape.

Then she felt him move. That slip of his arm as he made ready to try and choke her out again, but not without moving his other hand towards her face. It seemed he believe in the adage of an “eye-for-an-eye”, but she wasn’t going to allow him any upper hand. Just as his palm snapped up, Agnes snatched his wrist before it could connect and twisted it as cruelly as she could. His palm grazed her chin but she ignored any discomfort – the beast was hungry.

She snapped out, her teeth clamping down onto his hand (maybe a finger) and she bit like a rapid dog, hard and pulling away from him as she attempted to rip flesh. She was in no mood at this point and it was all about the win.

Attempting to strike the woman on the face was a mistake. As his hand went down she caught it and twisted. His hand made contact, but it was at a reduced speed so if it managed to hurt her he would have been surprised. He abusing his wrist hurt, but wasn’t severe.

Her biting down on his finger was much worse.

Ranger yelled in pain as the teeth bit down into the meat of his finger. He snaked another finger and his thumb into between her teeth to keep her from taking his finger as she pulled away. It was enough for him to keep his finger, but he did lose a significant amount of skin.

In a last ditch effort to maintain any semblance of control in this situation that was going pear shaped, the Ranger released right arm from the woman to swing it out and back in for a brachial stun. He had to put her down before messed him up any further.

He might have to go for his SIG in the front of his pants.

Agnes was getting rabid at this point. She was over fighting Mr. Military, an opponent who seemed to be far stronger and skilled than she normally could deal with. Now that the two were on the ground and he was trying to grapple with her, to knock her unconscious, she was going to have none of it. He attempted to drive his palm into her nose, a move that would surely crack her nose open like a walnut. But she wasn’t going to give him the benefit of her blood. Catching his wrist, she twisted it hard enough to turn and only cause it to graze her chin. It was then that the mad dog took over.

Holding his wrist tight, she snapped forward and bit into his hand. She bit, hard, digging her teeth into his flesh, fully accepting the fact that she was possibly going to pull off a digit. As his blood spilled into her mouth, her eyes dilated, red washing over her vision as he yelled and relinquished his hand. She breathed, a deep breath. She would be free again – then she felt the arm he used around her neck pull back.

She watched, briefly, as his arm pulled outward and her mind was already flipping through what was going to come next. He was going to try to stun her again. The hand came forward but Agnes was faster, slipping her free hand up to block his from striking her neck, she used the moment of freedom to slip away.

Agnes’ movement was fast. Sensing daylight, she sat up, finally free of his grasp, but she wouldn’t be running away this time. Rather, she turned, planting herself firmly upon his chest, straddling him on either side with her legs. Tightening her legs on either side of him, she lashed out with the first punch into his face…then again…then again. She didn’t think straight, she couldn’t think straight at this point. All that mattered was that she hurt him.

Each punch was lashed out. She ignored any defense he may have had. If he blocked one fist, then another would come from the other side. If he turned his head to dodge, it would only be met with another. Not ever punch would land but Agnes was running on pure rage now, her vision painted over in pure crimson. All that mattered to her was the feeling of his flesh collapsing under her fists and the desperate need to end this here and now.

His stun was blocked. He really should have expected that by now. That was his last ditch attempt to end this without doing to much damage to the woman. He would have to move up on the force continuum to a firearm.

Or he would have.

The woman spun around and locked herself onto his chest and proceeded to pound on his face. At first he was able to bring his hands around to block most of the strikes. His power gave him speed to catch most of the hits, but as more and more connected his reactions slowed. His vision was blurred by sweat, blood, and dizziness from what was likely a series of concussions.

Ranger finally tucked his chin to his chest to protect it from strikes, he then threw up one arm to block any more strikes from his face as he reached for his pistol. It was his last ditch effort. The woman was on his chest, he could plant his feet and lift his hips up to shift it so he could easily grab the SIG Sauer P226 from the front of his pants.

This was life or death to him now. The woman was fighting like some Norse berserker and he wasn’t sure she would quit after she knocked him unconscious.

He drew the pistol with lightning speed. He just needed to get it back to close to him so he could fire on the woman. SIGs have no safeties, just a double action trigger squeeze and it would discharge.

She could feel it. The pummeling of her fist digging into his face over and over and over again. Each strike was initially met with resistance. Cartilege and bone put up a hell of a fight but Agnes didn’t allow that to stop her. She just kept digging, she just kept unloading. All her frustration, all her anger, all the rage that had been building up since this fight begin, she was releasing all of it right here and now. There was no longer any semblance of the woman who had started this fight, there was only a berserker who had to win at any cost.

She would stop before his heart stop. At least that’s what she told herself whenever she managed to slip this far. Thankfully, each time she had managed pull that last punch or disengage at the last possible moment. Still, she feared the one day that she wouldn’t be able to do that. It would be the one day where someone would suffer because she just couldn’t stop herself, but that wasn’t her concern at this moment.

In all honesty, she was surprised that Mr. Military was still alive. With how many punches she was throwing, with his attempts to defend himself fading, it seemed as if he would be on death’s door step soon enough. But there proved to still be some life in this man after all.

Last minute, Ranger tucked in his chin and tossed up his arm for one last attempt to block. Anyone else would have seen it as some feeble defense, a means of throwing in the towel. But Agnes could already see where this was going. She felt that subtle movement, that signal that his arm was reaching down for something – a gun. That was what she would have reached for in this situation. However as much of a game-changer as that would be, she simply couldn’t allow it.

Focus shifted. He drew his gun far faster than she could have imagined, but just as he did, she anticipated the movement. Rolling off of his body, she twisted herself so she could wrap her legs and arms around his gun arm, locking it straight with the gun pointed away from her. With a cruel pull and twist, the rabid warrior did not stop until she heard that satisfying crunch of bone finally snapping under pressure.

God made men and Sam Colt made him equal, or so the old adage went. The Ranger had bet his life on his SIG giving him one last shot in this fight. It seemed SIG and Sauer hadn’t made men equal. Or maybe they did and this woman just didn’t get the memo.

In response to Ranger drawing his pistol the woman had immediately spun and locked down on his arm. It was a perfect armbar. Like a raccoon who had something shiny, the Ranger didn’t release his pistol. He indexed his trigger finger on the slide and tried to pull it free. Just as his power began to give him strength to pull free the woman moved again, viscously. There was a sickening pop, as his elbow gave in. Cartilage and tendon snapped around the bone where it split.

The Ranger was momentarily blinded as he howled in pain.

He knew he no longer held the pistol but couldn’t remember dropping it. He threw a punch with his left arm but it was weak and sloppy. His body had thrown in the towel, but he was too stubborn to just quit.

He could feel unconsciousness creeping upon him. After the flash of pain his vision had returned, but it was already fading. Darkness was moving in from the edges of his sight. His power was giving him more oxygen and was the only thing keeping him conscious, but that alone was not enough.

Win. Win. Win. That the was the only word that rebounded in Agnes’ head as she firmly locked the man’s arm and pulled and twisted. She didn’t care how much it hurt, she didn’t care that there was a gun mere inches from her face, all that mattered was the pressure. At just the right joint, with the right amount of twist, and suddenly she was met with that most glorious sound of a crack!. She could feel it then, the suddenly weakness the arm held as it flopped in her grip. The only thing more beautiful was the bloodcurdling scream that emitted from the other’s throat.

The gun clattered to the ground. Agnes, seeing only red, lifted her gaze as Mr. Military took a clumsy swing with his other arm. That was how the man fought, didn’t he? He didn’t quit. He didn’t stop until there was nothing left. She wasn’t safe until he was dismantled.

Seeing the punch coming a mile away, Agnes released his broken arm and easily slipped out of range. Grabbing him by the wrist, she twisted his second arm before ramming her forearm into his elbow, seeking to disable that limb as well. So long as he had not use of his hands, then she didn’t need fear reprisal – plus, each scream issued her further towards victory.

It was only when his second arm was thrown aside that the blood thirsty woman climbed back onto his chest and started to deliver a barrage of punches. She wasn’t going to stop until she was sure that he wasn’t going to hurt anyone again. Fists buried into cheeks and jaw and chin, at one point she slammed both fists down onto his chest like a gorilla. She was so intent on turning him into little more than a bloody, pulpy smear, but the image of that alone was what stopped her.

Before her fists could slam directly down onto his face with all the rage, frustration, and anger that she had, she stopped mere inches from his skin. A shaky breath and Agnes ground her teeth, breathing heavily, wanting so badly to end this forever and deal with the consequences later. But she didn’t. Rather, Agnes shouted, turned, and slammed her fist into the concrete, the pain ripping through her hand and sobering her up.

With a gulp she removed herself from the man’s still body. Her back pressed against the wall, she breathed heavily, holding her head and trying to re-chain the beast that screamed in her ear for more blood. The seconds passed but, eventually, she managed to look up and see that the red had reverted into the dull colors of an urban alleyway. Her gaze swept over to the still man, quiet and lying there as motionless as the dead.

Did she go too far? Did she not stop herself in time? A brief moment, she was scared that was the case. But…at the slow, raspy rise of his chest, she found that he was, in fact, still alive. To be honest she wasn’t sure how to feel about that so she curled her fist with the broken knuckles, grinding her teeth at the pain. It would heal by tomorrow but she still flexed it just so the pain could keep her sober.

Lying with her back to the wall, Agnes slowly turned her eyes back onto the bloodied man and ground her teeth. Suddenly she lashed out, driving her heel into the side of his head just for good measure. "***hole...". Picking his gun up from the ground, Agnes emptied the bullets out before she stood up, painfully, and tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants. He probably has another one, but at least this one won’t hurt anyone else.

She limped down the alley and turned to check on the grandmother she had saved; she was gone. Huh. Maybe she wasn’t hurt as bad as it initially seemed and she got away in the commotion. At least that was one life saved. So, turning down the alley and wiping the blood from her face and hands with the bought scarf, Agnes headed off in search of a phone to call in the piece of **** that she just left in the alley. He was going to need medical attention soon.