Val rolled to her feet with all the grace of a heavyweight champion boxer that had just had a lost a fight with a bus. Her head hurt. Her back hurt. And her new shades were a mess of expensive plastic and more expensive cracked glass. Idle dreams of workers comp and an trip on the company dollar to Prague were ruined by the inhuman roar of the bargain bin spook. His new looked suited him, it hurt her less than seeing his cheap blazer. Poor fashion really was a crime.

She stumbled as she tried to move. Nothing was broken, but it hurt, it fucking hurt. Val crashed into a half-crumbled shelf. She reached for her messenger bag, but came up with a fresh copy of Outlander. She tossed the gaudy book at the simian monster and offered a silent prayer that bad romance novels were its secret weakness. The paperback bounced off the monsters head with a sad thump. And then the terminal exploded, quite literally, into chaos. Light fixtures came crashing down. Bags, heavy bags, soared through the air like wheel-equipped boulders, indiscriminately sending civilians, TSA agents, and airline employees crashing into the cold linoleum floor. Val would have been impressed with the chaos, she really would have been, had she not been in a life or death battle with a [i]whatever[/i] it was she was fighting.

Romance novels were crushed beneath her feet as Val began to run. She wasn't a fighter. She had told Eleanor. She wasn't going to stay and brawl it out with King Kong. A shelf of chips exploded into a shower of wavy potato slices next to her. She could feel the heat pouring from the simian horror as he roared next to her. His breath and the smell of his still sizzling flesh made her gag. Her feet caught onto something and Val crashed onto her knees. Her hands came up wet. She willed herself not to look. She didn't want to see. She already knew what it was. She couldn't help.

Val scrambled forward in the darkness. She could hear the creature behind her. Closer. She screamed in panic and grabbed the first best vial she could reach in her leather satchel, hurling it towards the beast. The ruined storefront exploded into a brilliant flash of light and thunder. Val screamed, but the creature screamed louder, his eyes burning from the brilliant light of a thousand rave lights condensed through alchemical means into liquid form. Val tried to crawl away, backpedaling across the floor.

A desperate claw swipe caught a bag and then the alchemist and sent her skidding across the now slippery floor. She hoped it was coffee. She prayed it was spilled soda. She didn't look. Not again. Her right shoulder screamed with pain as Val clambered to her feet. She knew what she had to do.

She did what she did best.

She did the only thing she knew she could do. 

She ran. 

She ran towards the nearest emergency exit.

[hider=Summary]
Val gets her ass kicked some more by the bargain bin spook turned simian monster, stumbles on a body, gets thrown onto some slippery flooring that she hopes is just covered in coffee or spilled soda...spoiler, prob not...Val throws a random vial of alchemical junk at this face and sees some luck (or bad luck) as it explodes in a shower of light (assume it's something like a flashbang grenade just more bright and burny).

And then she decides to do a runner. All-in-all a solid effort from a tragically not bad-ass character.
[/hider]