"AH, AH, AH…"
Natasha stumbled through the dark, damp alleyways, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Blood seeped from numerous wounds on her body, leaving a trail of crimson behind her. Her vision blurred, and her steps unsteady, but she had to keep moving and find help before it was too late or find a way to escape her pursuers since she couldn't keep running for long. She quickly turned around to see if whoever was chasing her was still there, and unfortunately, they were.
These people wore all-black attire that blended seamlessly into the shadows, making them difficult to spot in the dimly lit alleyway. Their clothing was form-fitting, allowing for ease of movement, and they moved with calculated precision, exuding a sense of deadly purpose.
Each assassin wore a mask that concealed their identity, adding an air of mystery to their menacing presence. The masks were featureless and were designed to make the wearer look as anonymous as possible. It was impossible to determine their expressions or emotions through them. They were devoid of any humanity, cold, and detached in their pursuit of the young Red Palace student.
"AH, AH, AH…" Natasha ran, but her breath was ragged. With every step, pain shot through her body, reminding her of the injuries she had sustained earlier.
This pursuit has been on for at least five minutes, with her trying to escape these people with everything she could. She tried to ask for help, but as soon as she did, the assassins arrived and attacked her, leaving the young woman with multiple wounds. After a short while, she stopped trying to ask for help, as that would reveal her position.
Her clothes were torn so much that her breast was exposed, and part of her pants had been completely ripped. She was drained of any energy but refused to give up. The young woman had her poisonous whip firmly grasped in her hands, but they were shaky. She knew she was in a desperate situation.
As Natasha turned a corner, she heard the footsteps of her pursuer getting closer, their heavy steps echoing in her ears. She tried to quicken her pace, but her body protested, and she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.
One of her attackers, a tall and menacing figure, closed in on her, his eyes gleaming with malice. He swung his blade at her, and Natasha used her whip to deflect the attack. Desperation fueled her as she lashed out at the assailants with her whip, the poison dripping from its tendrils.
Her movements were slow and uncoordinated, and she could feel her strength fading, but she managed to hit the man in the eye and pierce his brain, killing him on the spot. The effort was exhausting, but at least it worked.
Despite her injuries, Natasha stood up again after killing the man. She swung her whip with all the determination she could muster, using it to keep the rest of the pursuers at bay. The poison worked its magic, weakening some, but they continued to press forward.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" The woman shouted, but she didn't receive any reply. Natasha bolted away again, and the chase continued through the narrow alleyways; She. was stumbling and gasping for air.
"AH, AH, AH… FUCK! FUUUCK!"
With a burst of speed, Natasha made a daring move, propelling herself onto a rooftop with her whip. She stumbled as she landed, the pain in her wounds intensifying. Her vision temporarily blurred, and the grip on her weapon wavered.
Her pursuers followed, closing in on her, their blades slicing through the air as they aimed at her. Natasha's movements were slow and labored, and she could feel her grip on consciousness slipping, but she was a Red Palace student, and she was not weak.
With a steely determination, Natasha straightened up, using her whip again despite her weakened state. She turned to face her pursuers, who had caught up to her and were surrounding her on the rooftop.
"Surrender, young woman," one of the men said.
"Why? So that you can kill me?!" The girl asked, desperation clear in her voice.
"You already know this is your destiny and can't escape from us. You may be strong, but not as strong as us."
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" The woman asked, crying. "I did nothing to you or anyone else for that matter!" she added. "Please! Let me go!" The sobs between her words were useless; these men didn't care at all about her. They received an order and intended to complete their task without fail.
"You know we can't do this. Now, stay put, and everything will end painlessly."
Natasha's heart pounded in her chest, but she stood her ground, her eyes blazing with defiance. She knew she couldn't take them all on, but she refused to go down without a fight. She swung her whip, the poison dripping from its tendrils, and lashed out at the nearest assailant.
Despite her strikes lacking their usual precision, Natasha fought with all the strength she could muster. She used her whip to keep her attackers at bay, striking out at them with every ounce of her remaining energy. Her injuries slowed her down, and she stumbled several times, but she managed to hit some of the men.
Her once beautiful face was now full of wounds. She had a broken finger that was swollen and crooked, causing her intense pain whenever she tried to move it, and on the same arm, she had a nasty cut that was deep and jagged, oozing blood and surrounded by a halo of swollen, red skin.
The assailants, however, closed in on her, their weapons slashing through the air. Natasha ducked and dodged, using her whip to block their attacks and retaliate with her own strikes. She gritted her teeth against the pain, her body protesting with every movement, but she fought on, her eyes fixed on her enemies.
During the fight, Natasha's long ponytail had come loose from its tie and now hung freely around her shoulders. The once-neat strands were tangled and disheveled, matted with sweat, and streaked with dirt. Some sections had been pulled out entirely, leaving uneven tufts of hair sticking out at odd angles. Despite its messy state, however, Natasha's hair still seemed to frame her face in a way that was both striking and wild, giving her an air of fierce determination even as she struggled to defend herself.
However, despite her best efforts, Natasha was having trouble handling the sheer amount of people. Her movements grew weaker, and the grip on her whip faltered. She cried out in pain after one of them managed to land another blow, this time on her shoulder, but she persisted in fighting out of sheer desperation and survival instinct.
"AH, AH, AH…" Her breathing became more and more ragged.
As Natasha struggled to stay on her feet, her vision blurred, and darkness threatened to envelop her. She knew she was reaching her limits but refused to give up.
Natasha swung her poisonous whip, lashing out at her attackers with all her remaining might. The venomous barbs sliced through the air, delivering their deadly payload to anyone they struck. One of the assassins lunged at the young woman from the side, evading her whip.
He swung a dagger toward her, and despite her efforts to dodge, the blade found its mark. Pain exploded in Natasha's side as the dagger pierced her flesh again, sending waves of agony through her body and blood gushing out like a fountain.
She cried out, staggering backward, clutching her side where blood seeped from the wound. Two more assassins closed in, blades glinting in the dim light. Natasha's vision blurred, and her head spun. She knew she couldn't keep up the fight much longer, and desperation surged through her.
The young woman stood a little and staggered back; she swung her whip in a wide arc, hoping to catch some of the assassins. She failed to injure most of them as they avoided the move by jumping back, but she landed a hit on a woman, and the poison seeped through the wound.
"FUCKIN BITCH!" The woman then kicked Natasha in the face, and she fell to the ground.
Natasha's wounds pulsed with pain, and blood oozed from multiple gashes, staining her clothes and pooling on the ground beneath her. The assassins pressed their advantage, closing in on her from all sides. Natasha tried to evade the attack from the ground, but the pain and the blood loss prevented her from doing so, and the blades found their mark once again, this time piercing her in multiple parts.
"It's really commendable how you managed to keep up until now despite your wounds. You really lived up to the expectations I had on you, but you are done now…"
"Go…to…hell…" Natasha managed to mutter.
Natasha's face was a mask of desperation and exhaustion, her features drawn and haggard from the ordeal she had been through. Her skin was pale and clammy, with sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip. Deep circles ringed her eyes, which were half-closed and bloodshot from lack of sleep and the strain of the fight. Every breath came in ragged gasps, and she could feel her strength ebbing away by the second. The young woman was now on the ground, and her body was wracked with pain, with blood pouring from her wounds.
"Sayonara…"
The assassins' leader closed in, his blade raised for a final strike. Natasha's vision faded; she had fought bravely, but her injuries were too severe. The last thing the Red Palace's student heard was the sound of the assassins' laughter as their leader closed in for the kill. Her world faded into darkness, and she died like any common rodent on the street.
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