My body was basically one with the sand, melted to the point of unrecognisable. What was I meant to do? No way could I move, but I must and I did. It was like muscle memory or something else. Sparks jolted all around my body literally springing me to life, it was like my body become coated in a soft shield of tingling electric, it felt warm, gentle and friendly as it bounced around my body, jolts of static jumping between those stupid spikes in my dreadful hair. There I was, free of the sand, stood in defensive position. Left leg outstretched I had caught that whirling blade with my scorched right hand and was now holding it instinctively. It felt as if I was holding my gorgeous Glock, oh how I did miss my babies. What was happening to me? I had never before held a blade beside the odd few I confiscated during fights, yet I barely held onto them longer than five seconds as I normally jammed them down someone’s throat or into some part of their body at the very least. Fascinated by how quickly my body reacted it felt like it wasn’t me, sure I was fast in the real world but this was beyond a joke.
