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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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He barely even had time to get to his feet and straighten his back before Clio resumed her assault. Her shoulder drove right into his stomach, sending both of the children crashing to the floor. Ivan tried to sit up, to push her off, to do something, but both of his arms were pinned between the two of them and out of position to defend against the vicious attacks being delivered to him. Each of Clio's fists struck him over and over again, while he himself was basically defenseless. Still reeling from the dizzying fall and shocked from the relentless attack that followed, Ivan could only turn his face and squint his eyes shut, bracing for each strike as it landed.

He wasn't sure how much pain all of this was causing or how much damage it was doing to his body, because all that mattered was the fight. Somewhere, mixed in with the torn skin and battered flesh, a certain feeling had mixed in seamlessly between the two. His hatred for what Clio had done kept it away at first, but now Ivan was beginning to realize that Clio was telling the truth. This wasn't direct malice or some strange vendetta that a girl was carrying from school. One animal in the world was merely trying to survive by doing what was asked of her, and that was killing another.

That's all either of them were by this point: animals. None of the revelations or actions were driven by thought and by the brain moreso than they were by instinct and the heart. It wasn't like he had time to conciously think about Clio's reasons for doing what she was doing while being punched in the face; this was just something that Ivan felt, something that he just knew. What he also knew, though, was that he was not ready and willing to give up to what this girl wanted.

Not yet. It wasn't ending like this.

After an uncounted number of Clio's wild swings found their mark, Ivan finally managed to finish tucking in his arms and put his hands on Clio's chest, pushing against her. Strain as he might, it was only enough to push her upwards at first, maybe soften the blows. Just meant he had to push harder... to fight for what Clio clearly wasn't going to just give up. After a pained breath to prime himself, Ivan's right leg swung up to try and kick the girl sitting over him. The angle meant little to no force was behind it, but it nudged her to the side, and it nudged her just far enough for Ivan's arms to finish the job.

Yelling as he heaved Clio off of his body, Ivan rolled and began crawling along the floor, trying to grab the shotgun that teased him just a yard or so away from his grasping fingers.
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