She leaned over the sink and spat, bloody spittle covered the white ceramic of the basin.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, another dark smear appeared, causing her skin to prickle as it dried.

Fucking asswipe.

She narrowed her eyes, clenching her teeth and taking in a deep breath through her nose. Gripping the sides of the basin with her hands, the trembled ever so slightly, and just around the edges of her eyes, a corona started to glow.

The slice across her chest stopped bleeding, the edges becoming smooth rather than rough, and slowly, as in a special effects show, it started to close together. Zipping together from one end to the other, soon it was just a harsh red line, as bruises and scrapes across cheeks and knuckles yellowed and scabbed, before fading away to pristine skin.

Kali let out a breath as the wound on her chest, which a mere minute before would have been considered traumatic, faded away from a scarlet line, to a thread’s width, to nothing.

Her hands unclenched from the side of the sink, and she looks at herself in the mirror, rolled her arms in their sockets, and bounced on her feet. Nothing like a little healing to make a girl feel good as new.

She turned around, stepping out of the bathroom, pulling on the cord to switch the light off. The main room was only dimly lit, which made the multiple pools of blood on the floor almost look simply like odd shaped rugs. Or, they would, if there wasn’t another body lying there, still bleeding.

Kali walked passed it, only pausing to deliver a short kick to their chest.

“Dickhead.”

And with that, she kept on walking, out of the room, and out of the building.

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