Eric and His Dirty Tricks

---Katherine---

Eric's face twisted into a snarl as our swords met yet again. "It's always you who's ruining my plans," he growled.

"I'm not letting you harm my friends," I grunted as I shoved him back. Righting my stance, I held both of my swords in a protective position. I saw what happened. I saw Eric's malicious grin when Reginald fell. I saw Aaron's blood spill across the stage. I saw Aaron's eyes roll back in his head when I crouched down next to him and attempted to draw out the poison. Fortunately, Rachel and Ashley were able to stop the spread of the poison and extract the silver needle. I saw Eric toying with Indigo and knowing the counterattacks to her every move.

I knew what was going to happen next. Leaving Aaron in Rachel's care, I stripped off my jacket and pulled out both swords. And not a moment too soon, because Eric's iron grip closed around Indigo's ankle and threw her across the stage. I leapt out and blocked Eric before he could cause more harm to my friends.

Eric's face shifted from triumphant to surprise to anger. Without giving me time to stabilize myself he had already spun away and lunged back with double the ferocity. His long knives flashed through the air, here, there, everywhere. Every move was designed to kill. I didn't hold back; here, it's kill or be killed. And I intend to leave here alive.

Somewhere, the announcer shouted, "Now we have Katherine of Roseland, challenging Eric! May she emerge victorious!"

I will admit, Eric was an amazing fighter. It was a shame he turned to the dark side; otherwise, he would've been a great contribution to society. For the first twenty or so seconds I could only slide this way and that, tilting my head and twisting my body to avoid being sliced like roast beef. Eric was too fast. His polished knives were reflecting the torchlight and trapping me in a circle of deadly mirages. Everywhere I looked, there were flashes of silver. I could not tell where Eric was, or where his real knives were. Trapped, with no way out…

Eric whirled closer, so close his passing blade chopped off a lock of my hair. I spun in a circle, swords out. Eric only danced out of the way and aimed a deadly thrust to my forehead. I leaned back so far my ponytail brushed the floor, before straightening and jumping straight up in the air to avoid having my legs cut off. I tried to fight my way out, stabbing my swords at where I thought Eric was. It only passed through thin air, and the evil cackles of Eric echoed across the wooden stage. I was utterly trapped and alone. Eric was everywhere, and his stupid silver knives were blinding me. He was toying with me. Damn it damn it damn it what do I do?

A memory flashed in my mind, and I was transported back to when I was only seven. Little me was turning slowly in a circle, frantic. It was a test to see if I was ready to receive an actual sword and step on the path of being a swordswoman. It was dark, and shadowy shapes loomed everywhere. I was trapped with no way out. The darkness was suffocating. Just like Eric's knives.

'The Anaconda's Squeeze.' My father's deep voice sounded. 'Remember Katherine, they are all illusions.'

'How do I fight an illusion?' Little me cried out, frightened. 'I can't do this, Dad, I can't. Help me.'

'Yes, you can Kath,' my father's voice soothed. 'Remember what I taught you. What are illusions used for?'

'To make you see things that aren't really there,' Little me answered. 'To confuse you and distract you from the real thing.'

'So what should you do when you are trying to cut through something that is not really there?' My father's voice gently prodded.

'You focus and try to differentiate between real and fake,' Little me and present me answered together. Little me's voice was no longer quivering. I tightened my grip on my swords, took a deep breath, and concentrated.

'And once you figure what's real and what's not?' My father's voice was there, but at the same time not here.

"You aim straight and true at the thing that's real while ignoring the fakes," I said aloud, holding one of my swords on either side of me, the hilts pressed into my waist and pointing straight out. Little me passed the test, and I have found my way.

Spinning on my heels, I twisted myself faster and faster, until I was a whirlwind of flashing blades. I closed my eyes and slowly extended my swords outward, spinning like a top all the while. Eric yelled, and suddenly, I could breathe again.

My eyes sprang open to see Eric on the other side of the stage, pressing on hand to his right arm. A long bloodied gash was running from his shoulder to his elbow. I was free. I escaped his trap!

"Impressive," Eric spat. "But you won't escape me this time!" Roaring, he sprang at me once again, knives criss-crossing. A well-timed slide to the side and roundhouse kick sent Eric sprawling to the floor. Somewhere, I heard cheering. But all of my senses were focused on Eric, who was crawling back up and literally spitting fire.

"You little bitch!" My eyes widened with anger at the insult. Eric was blinded by anger and humiliation. He attacked repeatedly with everything he had. His knives stabbed at anywhere and everywhere, barely giving me enough time to defend myself. If I was even a millisecond slower, I would become minced meat.

One of his knives nicked my arm and a thin line of blood appeared immediately. Gritting my teeth, I ignored the pain and kept fighting. Right now, I knew that I was the only one who had a chance against Eric. I must fight Eric with all I had, even if it's to the death.

Eric tripped and fell on the floor. I jumped at the chance and raised my sword high to plunge it down. I didn't mean to kill him; I just wanted to point my sword at his throat and make him admit defeat. A second before I reached him Eric's hand whipped out and five darts came flying towards me. Gasping, I threw myself into the air, curling up into a ball and somesaulting in the middle of the air. The darts whizzed by so close I could feel them pass by my face.

I landed, but before I could steady myself Eric was already up and pouncing. He knocked into me with full force. I slammed into the stage on my back, pinned underneath him. My old sword went skidding across the stage; only Retribution was still clutched tightly in my hand. I struggled wildly, twisting and punching and scratching with my free hand, while trying to stab Eric with Retribution. Eric tried to stab me with his knife, but to do so he had to release me, and I would escape.

We wrestled on stage. He was heavy! My instincts were telling me to fight, fight, fight, and my brain was screaming that I had to survive. In a weird fit of self-defense, I yelled mentally: Get him off me!! Retribution shuddered in my hand. Suddenly Eric was sprawled on the floor several feet away, as if by magic. We both froze for a second, not knowing what had happened. Then I scrambled to my feet, readying my sword to strike.

Eric was a split second faster. As I lurched to my feet, his arm shot past me and I felt something stab into my skin, right under my right ribcage. I didn't feel the pain at first. It wasn't until I registered the dagger in Eric's outstretched hand and the blood seeping through my shirt the pain hit. Our gazes locked and Eric grinned maliciously. "Bye-bye little girl," he whispered in my ear, before yanking his dagger out. I let out a sharp scream and fell backwards onto the stage, blood trailing in the air.