Not my best work, but I hope you enjoy!
With the fury of all his strength, Marcus came crashing down upon his victim. His hands clasped together as one. Although a rudimentary attack, it was still one with merit and should his fist collide, the damage would be immeasurable. Already on top of him, Marcus kept his eyes locked on his prey, never looking away no matter what the distraction, for the simple reason, he wanted to see his enemies spine break upon collision. It was a rather odd obsession of his, but one that suited him well. With only seconds away from collision, Marcus flexed his muscles for extra impact as he gripped his fist tighter. In his world, all that was left was the inevitable. To his surprise, his prey did not whimper in fear, or show any sign of defeat, instead he raised his left arm upwards in an attempt to block. But what was odd, was that his enemy raised his hand ‘Knuckles Out!” Immediately, Marcus was perplexed, as the move was not associated with a block or counter strike, but more a direct attack against him. But as he had the higher ground, as well as hopefully superior strength, clearly he had the advantage. Curious but unflinching, Marcus stuck to his plan, and with cold precision, continued his strike.
Suddenly the street echoed with a *snikt* sound as three metallic claws extended from his enemies fist. Each one beyond razor sharp, and with a trickle of blood, they shined in the light while still looking a deadly threat. Immediately, Marcus needed to rethink his plan, as the claws were a new variable, mixed with the confidence of his prey. Together they meant a threat, one that might possibly mean a weapon strong enough to pierce his near impervious skin. Although unlikely, it was wiser to avoid the claws all together, and use his enemies exposed hand to his advantage, rather than take a chance of being skewered, like a stuck pig! Unable to avoid his downward spiral, in a glorious display of athleticism, he put a new plan into action. If possible, Marcus would use his last remaining seconds to reach out and try to grab his enemies exposed wrist. After releasing his two clasped hands, he would now try to use them both to wrap around his enemies, and use the extra momentum from his decline into enough force as to knock it away or even take his foe to the ground, where he would proceed to apply strike after strike until subdued.
Unfortunately, in the heat of battle, things do not always go as according to plan, and although he managed to avoid his enemies first attack, he was wide open for his second. Again with a *snikt* his enemy attacked, but this time with his right hand, that he jabbed at Marcus’ abdomen with an overly impressive speed. In defense, Marcus spun his left arm down in a counter clockwise motion, in an attempt to parry the attack, unfortunately this time he was not fast enough. By luck he blocked the frontal assault by a hair, but as his arm continued to spin, his enemies claws scratched away on his side. Immediately, and by impulse alone, Marcus pulled back, finding three deep scratches along his hide. But just as the blood dripped from his wounds, it was the emotional scar Marcus had to deal with. Although mere scratches, Marcus had to deal with the fact his near impervious skin had been cut. But unlike most men who might fear an obvious weakness, much like his foe, Marcus did not show signs of fear, but a passion to prove his superiority against a superior enemy. In the end both men stood unwavered, confident in their skills and their ability to read each other.
But once again his enemy struck, this time with an animal savagery, as he swung strong and wild at his neck. With his wounds already healed over, Marcus countered with a side block, by striking the lower part of his arm against the wrist of his enemy, all in an attempt to knock it away and out of harms way. At the same time Marcus looked for any telltale sign of weakness in his opponent, while considering his best moment to strike. But in such close quarters, the jugular vein always sufficed. Moving at an impressive speed, Marcus reached into his utility belt and with the flick of a wrist, pulled forth a six inch shuriken, that he proceeded to stab in to the exposed side part of {Your} neck. It was not a pretty move, nor done with flair, it was simply a means to an end. But just as he brought the tip of the blade to {Your} neck, he choose to make one of those quips or comments usually given at a moment like this, but because of his upbringing, all he was moved to say was, “You may have been worthy!”
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