If she could run like a champion (like an Olympian), if she could sprint like she was in the arena being screamed at, then maybe Bella's heart wouldn't be ripping itself out of her chest right now. If she could keep her poise, she could pretend this was a contest between equals, and it might not matter that she'll lose. 

But the hard marble floor sends shocks through her tendons, and she stumbles. Where she glances over her shoulder, her dainty shoes slip off of the smooth and polished surface and she bounces off the walls until her shoulders feel crushed and useless and her ribs burn like they're being washed in acid and her lungs her lungs her lungs there's no air she needs [i]air[/i] why can't she breathe please, please, no, stay away! Stay away!!

She runs until the heels snap off of her shoes: she frantically turns and kicks them at the Nemean, for all the good that does her. Her bare feet make no sound as she bounds away. Her knee buckles, finally breaking her form. She can't be this monster's equal. It was hubris to try. Her lungs scream, her legs burn, her throat makes a constant, pitiable whining sound whenever she tries to breathe. Her body betrays her pride, forcing her lower to the ground. She runs with her arms too, just an animal fleeing the hunt. With every few bounds she rises again and tries to find a sprinter's form, but she comes crashing back to the ground after only a step or two at best. 

She can hear the steps behind her, stomps that make her palms and the bottoms of her feet tingle. So powerful that they don't need a shred of a princess' grace to keep pace with a desperate servitor. The horrible singing sinks inside her skull and weighs her down more heavily than any shackle. She can smell the monster coming, a slight tang of sweat wrapped in a thunderstorm that manages to be more fierce and terrifying than Space itself without the need to rage. And, worse, just underneath it, the telltale mark of flowers and laser that means that this is Redana, really Redana after all.

Bella howls with animal desperation. She skids into a corner, out of room to flee. Her body tenses, her claws spread wide. She hunches, waits, and when she slashes...

Agony. 

The fingers on her right hand twist unnaturally as the talons wrapped around them shred themselves to useless hunks of scrap metal when they meet the Nemean's unprotected skin. The shriek of space age alloy faltering in the face of a god feels muted next to the sounds of Bella's own labored breathing and the throbbing rush of her blood as it forces itself through her shivering fingers. The final scraps of her talons fall away, and the shame of her imperfection, the scars where her claws were carved out of her, now lie naked in the open air.

Bella's tail wraps itself around her leg. Her eyes shrink in undisguised panic. But she forces herself to stand up straight. She ignores the way her neck still has to crane to see her opponent's face even at her full height. She twists her face until it's defiant and furious. Or, she hopes she does. Every greedy breath she takes needs its own special effort in this place with no space, no air, no hope. Her laugh is shaky and ragged.

"...Kn-knew it," she heaves, "I knew it. H-h-ha! You don't care. Never cared. You wanna p-punish me for being a Bad Girl, huh? That it? Lorventi's gonna tear Alexa in [i]half[/i], but who gives a fuck? If she's... in pieces, she still [i]did her job.[/i] Isn't that right? Redana?"