[IC] Ink and Blood (Empty Armor vs. Doc Doctor)

[EmptyArmor]

Tanya's breath floated silvery in the icy moonlight, the only sign of life among a nest of shadows. She pulled her scarf around her mouth, suffusing even that, and crept closer to the crumbling stone pillars of the Moschet Museum as silently as ink dripping across parchment. She moved like a snake in the grass, a saleswoman among shadows-- it wasn't usually like her to be getting her hands dirty, but the prize in this abandoned building would be way more than worth it. Or at least, she hoped it would.

She'd heard rumors that scavenger's had picked the area clean, time and time again. Even so, it was said that the place still held a strange chill, like a locket kept close to a corpse, and maybe even an artifact or two at that. The place made a magnificent wreck-- if she wanted to see if it had any treasures left for the world, it would have to be alone. As the moonlight hewed threataning silhouettes into view, she hoped with everything that alone is how she would stay.

[Doc Doctor]

As Tanya neared the Museum she'd be able to notice a large, pitch-black vulture circling over the structure. If she remained within the area, It would let out a sharp, ululating cry and drift overhead to ring rosies above her instead. The bird didn't seem large enough to pose a real threat, but it was eerie as shit. If Tanya chose to move further in towards the library, the vulture would try to dip down and soar in through the broken doors first, diving into the shadows within.

[EmptyArmor]

Tanya crept carefully towards the museum, and seeing no immediate threats, made her way towards the front entrance. As she neared the threshold, she heard a scream overhead that chilled her blood. A tremendous shape was diving heavily towards her, and she dived into the museum as it swept into the darkness ahead. She landed in a lithe roll, slid on her feet as she attempted to keep track of this strange assailant. She peered upward, pulling her scarf down and away from her face, searching for the shape that had alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone. Darkness there, and nothing more. Black feathers followed her trail into the building, illuminated by silvery lights of what could be flame perched in sconces ahead. She pressed her back to the wall to the right of the doorway, and made some feathers of her own. She pressed her hand to her chest and felt a familiar warmth grow and spread, tingling across her arms and back with the crackle of magic. She summoned the Feather of Innocence, lines of ink suspending in the shape of feathers and surrounding her body. Used this way, her Signature Technique could be used as a cushioning shield, able to deflect normal strikes and dampen the impact of stronger blows. She focused again, and protected herself further. The telltale sigils of Binding Contract sprouted in the image of each feather, ensuring that physical strikes to her protective cloak of feathers would have a paralysis effect, and that the sheer quantity of her circles would be difficult to disrupt via magic. Thus prepared, she crouched low, kept her eyes open, and her back to the wall, ready for anything.

[Doc Doctor]

Zande would have been crouching behind a pillar across from where the woman moved, topless save for his grimy black cloak. He'd be sheltered in the darkness, watching the woman roll inside after being startled by his pet. The moment he had heard its initial cry, he'd have darted to his vantage point to scope out the situation. A lone woman. And she was white. The headhunter was just about to reveal himself to try and seduce her when suddenly the freak sprouted some ink wings. Dayum. He hadn't seen any white woman like that before. Better safe than sorry. He'd remove his bamboo blowpipe and black dart, taking just a moment to poke it the top of a small leather flask before loading it into the pipe. Inland taipan venom. Without medicine, a poke to the limbs meant that death would come in roughly an hour. Incapacitation in forty minutes. Dizziness, severe muscle crampimg, and physical illness in fifteen. If it struck the neck, all of that would occur in less than half the time.

He'd take a moment to pick up a small rock, weighing it in his hand and watching the woman. He'd wait until she was looking away before giving it a good chuck into the air, aiming for it to fly up and out of view before clacking on the other side of the room. He wanted her to be distracted. He wanted her to concentrate nice and hard on something for a second, and leave herself open. He wanted to nail her left calf, where the wings might be unlikely to get in the way were she to be startled. Zande would time his shot to occur an instant after the rock landed, desiring the faint "fwup" of the blowpipe to be partially disguised by the noise of the much louder echo of the rock. The dart would be virtually invisible in the dim lighting.

[EmptyArmor]

The air was cold and still as projectiles sped through the air, the silence brief before it was broken, and the battle was truly begun. CLACK. The sound of the unknown enemy's maneuver echoed through the museum hall. It was true that Tanya's attention flicked toward the source of the noise, but as no stranger to violent experiences, she spared no more attention than was necessary to register the danger, and react. Her adrenaline beginning to rise, she barely perceived the crackle of magic at the back of her consciousness, the sensation of the dart snuffing one of the feathers draped around her body. She knew not where her enemy was waiting, and so she was forced to choose a target.

She leapt up and kicked off the wall once in a flip, her shroud of feathers allowing no purchase to further pecks, and began to fly up close to the ceiling of the museum. Even that wretched bird from before would likely have trouble following her movements at this speed, and what was more, she decided it was time to go on the offensive. As she got up closer to the ceiling, she landed lightly on one of the long rafters crossing the sides of the museum gallery. Shadows perched like crows above the stone, keeping her movements hidden as she kept her palm pressed tightly to her chest.

As Tanya ran towards the center of the museum, she flung her feathers outward in every direction, sweeping the darkness of the ceiling with a hail of all but invisible blades. At the same time, a new coat of feathers started growing around her as she moved. She presented few obvious openings for attack-- if this assassin wanted to play shadow games with her, they'd have to take a hell of a lot more chances this.

[Doc Doctor]

Zande's vulture had a name. She was called Ezili. And it just so happened that Ezili would have been sitting right on the rafter Tanya had alighted upon. The bird turned to look at the woman who had just flown up beside her. A moment passed. Then her eyes bulged with ridiculous surprise. Ezili was so startled she just comically froze, beak agape. Spotters weren't supposed to get this close. At any rate, she would have missed her cue to warn Zande.

Back on the ground, Zande watched his prey zip up the wall with eyes as sharp as those of his bird. He had fought many spellcasters, but this was a new style he hadn't seen before. He watched with utter bewilderment as his prey somehow managed to pop a squat right beside his helper. But also, it looked like she had been throwing black shit off of her along the way. What could it be? Something sliced his left ear in two. A hot pain streaked down his back. Several somethings clattered on the floor. Arrows!? Without sparing a second Zande tore his battleaxes free from his belt and held the broad, seven pound blades up before his face and body like a pair of small shields. Just in time. Several more feathers rattled against the axes. He had recieved a good slice on the back. In that moment, Zande decided to no longer fuck around. If his spotter was killed, he'd truly be in danger. Without a second pair of eyes his options would be cut right in half. He sat down his right axe just long enough to remove a flask from his belt and gulp down the contents. Like his cloak, the flask had a skull and crossbones emblazoned upon it. In his homeland it was known as a super Zamorak brew, named after the dark god of chaos. As its effects began to take hold of him, he darted silently over to another corner across the room where his tribal mask lay. A black steel faceplate, which he put on only in certain situations that required him to briefly lose himself. If he reached it, then no sooner than he had strapped it on would the power of the brew hit him full force.

The cannibal would hunch over, vomiting violently upon the floor. His lean muscles heaved and twitched as spasms shook his body. Tanya would be able to easily notice him at this point. The lanky man, now more closely resembling some sort of wretched demon, threw back his head and howled. Streams of blood would run down the beastial warrior's mouth and streak his chest.

[EmptyArmor]

The vulture's scream pierced the darkness by the rafters-- Tanya had landed right next to it! It's shrill cry shocked her for a brief moment, but heart pounding, she flicked her blades at it as its menacing caw scraped her eardrums. She could waste no time in pressing more than a cursory attack, but perhaps it would be enough to punish the beast for being caught even more flat footed than she had. She had a feeling that the real danger was lying in wait below, but that didn't mean she didn't have time to send a shotgun like spray of magic at a sitting duck vulture.

"What... the fuuck?" She intoned.

Tanya darted across the rafters as fast as she could, one shadow anonymous among many. The rush of movement made her forget the cold, though the inky blades she flung in every direction were a painful reminder for whoever it was had the same idea to loot the museum. The darkness surrounding her made it difficult to track her quarry, but it seemed that she didn't need to track much. A demonic roar echoed through the hall, it's vibrations probably enough to stir even the museum's famous ghosts. A familiar itch at her forearms screamed danger, and her thoughts raced to handle the threat of the animalistic figure gathering it's power in the gallery below.

She slid to a stop as she got to a corner of the room, moonlight layered with dust, dust outlining the magic traced around her body. She pressed her hand to her chest again, ignoring attacks from the bird for the moment. Instead she gathered her magic once more, coating herself with another cloak of the Feather of Innocence, weaving them once again with the Binding Contract. It was taxing spellwork, but it the more she put into it, the more it would give her. As things stood, she wore two layers of her feathers, the tracings of them floating around her in what appeared to be a small cloud. The outer layer was interspersed with changing, mutating, symbols-- time and energy spent to paralyze the foe beneath her. He didn't seem to know where she was waiting yet, and the element of surprise was a decisive advantage. At the first sign of his movement, she planned to leap from the catwalk and sling her razor sharp feathers down in a paralyzing rain, creating a widespread lane of mezzing Binding Contracts if he decided to charge. If he went for a direct attack at range, she was confident that two layers of protective magic and fast moves would deflect the worst of the blows. All in all, Tanya was terrified, but Tanya was ready. She balanced on the balls of her feet, and got ready to leap.

[Doc Doctor]

Ezili flapped madly to try and get away but was torn apart by the magic! But that didn't register with her master. Zande turned around, shivering. His pupils had dilated to completely fill out his eye sockets with an oily blackness, the empty yet virulent gaze a rat or a shark. These eyes could see in the dark, absorbing light from the furthest sources. Not a second passed before the space where the cannibal had occupied was empty, and he had loped across the room and up the side of the opposite wall. His legs swept back and forth in long, unnatural strides. He had transformed into some kind of childhood nightmare, moving much more swiftly than anything of its size should have been able to. Each rapid step sounded like two knives being smacked together, the steel claws of his boots dashing sparks from the stonework. If Tanya didn't fly soon, it would reach her before she had made much progress in her magical preparations. And if that happened, it would be obvious what fate awaited her. Snapping bones, tearing muscles, screaming agony and then only the darkness.

[EmptyArmor]

A surprise attack! The lighting advance of raging beast beneath her made Tanya's breath catch in her throat, and she was forced to abort her careful preparations. This thing was just too goddamn fast, and it was charging straight at her! It took a fraction of a second to process the sparks hitting the floor, the crash of it's unblinded rage. This was one of the most fight or flight situations she'd ever encountered, and it looked like it was time for flight.

It was too much of a risk to try getting above it, in its path, anywhere near it with anything less than the set up for a killing blow. For all she knew this monster could snatch her out of the air, tear her completely to shreds as soon as she moved-- since it moved with all the unpredictability of a raging bull, now was the time to take some aggressive precautions. This wasn't something she wanted to do, but she was desperate. It would be easy. It would be done at the speed of thought. And it had to be done. Tanya was used to making deals. Yet.

She felt her sins crawling on her back.

As one demon charged, she beckoned another one into this world. It was in her mind, slithering among her worst thoughts, her fears and grudges hiding it like tall grass. It spoke to her, asked her what she wanted. She told it that she wanted the same thing she did every time. She told it she wanted power. It rattled its laughter, and offered the apple. She stepped forward in her soul, and forged her side of the pact.

Tanya's mind returned to the moment, her senses overloaded but still functioning. She slammed her hand onto the chest hard, inking a Binding Contract into her skin, no time to make a second layer of the Feather of Innocence like she intended. The monster was all but upon her; she'd have to let the creature attacking her dangerously close, and she could only hope that the paralysis of the Binding Contract would give her the opening she needed to let the Rules Snake take its bite...

[Doc Doctor]

Zande pushed off the wall and landed neatly beside Tanya, on her left. As the dreadlocked horror then rushed upon her, from betwixt its front teeth would a spray of blood jet out. It intended to spit in her eyes as she looked. A technique!? A plan!? The cannibal may have been insane, but insanity and stupidity were two different things.

After launching the distraction, Zande would swing his left axe up over his head in preparation for a strike, at the same time leaping forwards and thrusting his right foot towards Tanya's abdomen, actually trying to overshoot the mark so that if she tried to escape backwards it would still land. A charging front kick with enough weight behind it to drive most humanoids into the ground.

Though her skin written defences might absorb the shock of the kick, what came next would not be so easy to endure. Should the blow land, then instead of drawing back his foot Zande would bear his weight forwards. The brutal talons of his boot could easily gouge through the intestinal wall and catch on the top of the pelvis, dragging a victim to their knees and leaving them too traumatised to block the overwhelmingly powerful swing of his readied axe.

[EmptyArmor]

The killer had gone berserk and rapidly closed the distance, its insane instincts piloting its body more immediately than its mind. All the same, it wouldn't make life so easy as to attack without a backup plan. As it landed next to Tanya with a weighty thunk, it attempted the gambit of blinding her with its tar-like spit before throwing everything behind its weight in a vicious kick. Fortunately, Tanya's pact with her Snake hadn't dulled her reflexes at all, or it would have been a rather poor weapon of last resort.

She pivoted towards the monster as it landed, and threw up her left hand in reflex as the inky jet of blood spurted from between its shark-like jaws. The feathers wrapped around her left forearm burned and disappated at the blast of foul liquid, but there were yet enough about her back to propel her forward. All Tanya needed to do to avoid the incoming kick was duck down low, the ironshod boot swinging like a doorbuster overhead. At the same time, she pushed forward from underneath its guard, the solid magic of her wings flexing upward to push its center of gravity back and up. Its long leg would serve as an excellent lever to push it back in a splits. The surprise burst of momentum aided by her unfurling wings should be enough to dodge the incoming attack, a hair's breadth of distance between her and getting fucked up, but fast enough that she could end up surprising it. As Tanya followed through with her momentum, her left hand shot out underneath to tag the demon's right thigh, her touch able to forge the Contract Will of her Rules Snake.

With her wings extended, a direct strike down into her back from one of its wicked looking axes would be dampened, even if the beast managed to find its footing before her counterattack connected. Her positioning was aces, its leg was already in the way of a sweeping strike, stomping down would meet the same problems as a strike downward from the left axe, and both options were swiftly growing more inconvenient. It could possibly wheel its momentum upward and attempt to kick from under her chin with a backflip, but it had thrown its bodyweight forward, so a trick like that would be awkward and slow enough to be handled in the realm of mortal possibility. Even with all of these contingencies accounted for, Tanya was aware that these next few instants were the boundary between life and death. If she could pray, even with a demon in her hands, she would.

[Doc Doctor]

Certainly Zande hadn't expected to have an opponent swift enough to duck down beneath a kick to the gut from so close. Those wings lent her an amazing speed and maneuverability he hadn't encountered before, but he indeed was piloted primarily by instincts. And right now, his instincts told him the time for the end was nigh. As Tanya darted below his kick and made him do the vertical splits, the cannibal surprisingly dropped both axes. The left one in order to reach down between his legs and grab her by her tussled hair, aiming to wrench her head back as she touched his thigh and formed the contract. This one could be difficult to see coming, thanks to her positioning. The other axe was abandoned to free up his right hand, so that with phenomenal celerity he could plunge his knuckles into her wind pipe. It wouldn't require much force to crush an unprotected one. But just in case she did endure the initial blow, he'd be quick to then open his right fist up after the blow to seize her gullet and tear it out an instant later. And even that wouldn't be the end of the trouble. He'd attempt to clasp his legs about her as best he could afterwards and drag her to the ground with his weight, locking her into a triangle choke. The cannibal had many weapons, but so far he hadn't the chance to use his favorite. Sometimes there were things worse than death. Sometimes those things involved teeth.

[EmptyArmor]

Rage, blood, and ink, movement splattered across the battlefield like words on a page. Tanya had been able to avoid the demon's assault in the distance between her skin and her tattoos, and in what seemed like the same amount of space, she found an opening. That opening she needed-- she took her chance and her strike found its mark. As the monster was tipped back, she forged the Contract Will with the bite of the Rules Snake. She screamed her terms in her mind as she felt its claws scrape up a handful of her hair.

TOUCH MY RIGHT HAND.

She felt it wrench her head back and up, yet instants felt like eternities, all but biting her tongue to bleeding in waiting for her magic to take effect. As the beast pulled, she threw her right hand up in front of her face, the feathers from before still remaining to absorb further blows. At the same time, her left hand flew to the small of her back, her grasp finding the familiar shape of Quill, her magically attuned dagger. If another strike were still to come forward in the instant it would take Rules Snake to make its bid to its rampaging opponent, it would probably snap the bones of her forearm like twigs. Yet she would survive. Her terms would only take effect if the berserking vulture warrior could manage to form coherent counter-terms; if it couldn't muster the presence of mind at Tanya's contact, the Rules Snake would drain its soul from its body like letting blood from a wound. If somehow it was able to make itself understood in the mental covenant it would establish with the Rules Snake, the humanoid abomination might not be able to act based on information about Tanya's speed, her feathers, her combat style, that the demon had accrued while it was under the influence of whatever foul conditions allowed it to do so much reckless damage. After that, all it would take would be one more touch, a cut of the knife, anything she could use to deal the killing blow.

[Doc Doctor]

Zande's punch would be subconsciously redirected by the suggestion of Rules Snake, his bony right fist shooting towards Tanya's right hand instead of her neck. If he had good footing and could have put his legs behind it, the punch might've broken both her hand and face together. As things stood, however, the blow only had momentum from his upper body and would probably just smack into her mitt and cause the back of her hand to crash into her face, possibly breaking her nose shortly before the fist opened to latch upon her hand with a brutal squeeze. Zande puzzled over what had pressed him to change his aim, but not for long. Not after seeing his opponent reach behind her back for something. The power of the Rules Snake echoed again through his mind, compelling him. He hadn't words in his head, only raw will. And the will of Zande, loud and clear, stated this: "Use no weapon..."

Since Tanya had both arms available for use, Zande probably wouldn't be able to get her into the intended triangle choke. With these new developments, he'd vie for a simpler tactic; falling backwards and dragging her down on top of himself by her hair, at the same time trying to wrap both legs around her waist. If this occurred, then once they had fallen he'd try to yank her right hand away from her head with his own before leaning in, rancid jaws agape. Sweet Christ on his throne. He wanted to shred her eyes to ribbons with his teeth. Grind her nose to mush. Tear off her lips and disengage her ears from her skull. He was assaulting human reality itself, the illusion that you won't encounter people in life who will maul you like an ape, mercilessly. Such things could be heard about happening on the other side of the world, always to someone else, someone you didn't truly care about. Things that shatter lives, ruin dreams. Within that pitch-black maw, no dreams could survive. If Tanya was unable to keep the madman from pressing his sweaty mug against hers, the brutal steel of his mask as cold as the dark side of life many try to ignore, then no amount of surgery on the planet would help her look pretty again. She would end up as the sort of thing children cry at, and at which grown men shudder.

[EmptyArmor]

The terms of the contact slammed into her mind, etched into her soul, were written on her skin; Tanya took those words to heart, and would soon take the cannibal's. As if in slow motion, the monster's mace heavy punch throttled through the air, to meet directly with Tanya's outstretched palm. Inky feathers scattered invisible in the darkness, her hand crunching at the impact. She bit her lip to bleeding in silent agony, yet stood fast. At the touch of her bare skin, the demon should have froze for no less than three, maybe four seconds-- the result of the Binding Contract she had previously written to her skin! It's paralyzing effect should have wormed its way across his body like so much poison, undeniable, unstoppable, enough to keep him locked down for just long enough.

She gritted her stance, allowing the demon to follow through with its punch, and flicked out her left hand empty with all the vicious speed of a snake herself. With a scream of pain and triumph, she thrust the touch she needed into the berserker's core, a grasp of magic cruel and cold enough to steal the life from his body.

"Your soul is mine!"

[Doc Doctor]

Zande was indeed frozen and unable to proceed for the allotted time. But upon contact, the touch of death would actually struggle to remove his life. He was not magical, no. He was just so damn tenacious. His soul was anchored to his body by a cord of steel will, and it would require a spell with more effort put into it to cut through. Rules Snake would certainly be able to steal his soul, but with personal instadeath magic it would be like trying to jerk a wet dishrag through a wedding band.

Tendons popped out on the cannibal's neck, oily eyes bulging. It was a spook. Unreasonable. One of a kind. That particular sort of beast that stands out amongst its genus as the sort of anomaly horror stories are based upon. The shark in Jaws. The dog in Cujo. The crocodile in Lake Placid.
Now that Tanya was so close, she could better notice the scars crisscrossing its dark torso. It had been slashed before, stabbed through, sliced up years ago. It would take something special to kill this monster.

[EmptyArmor]

Tanya screamed in pain and in rage, her nails digging hard into the leathery mass of scars that the berserker called a chest. Oh she saw them-- she saw everything. She was prying every attrocity, every horror, every bloodsoaked secret she could reach out of Zande's body, to feed herself, to survive. That's right, she knew his name. Now she knew, and would know everything-- just like all the others. The Rules Snake was her. So Zande was a cannibal? He might just understand what Tanya is, as the light was torn away.

She dug her grip harder into its chest, feathers manifesting at her back once more, a binding contract written once again to the monster's skin. She gritted her teeth, feral in clawing her way out of the void. Another Binding Contract, applied at point blank range, would be all it would take-- followed by another, and another, and another. It was a spell that took concentration, time enough to set up, and focus to maintain; but what more did Tanya need? Perhaps the cannibal's fiendish will would hold the mortal coil until the end of days. This was fine. The Rules Snake, Tanya Hetairoi, would consume its soul for as long as it took...

[Doc Doctor]

Each binding contract lasting twice as long as it too to make, certainly it would appear as if Zande had been locked into a loop. How nasty. He may have been a cannibal of flesh, but she was a cannibal of souls. He imposed his power in the physical realm and she imposed hers in the aether. They were two sides of the same coin. He could not break the loop with magic nor wiles or endurance. In fact he'd at best be able to last ten minutes like this due to the taxing effects of the Zamorak Brew. Which was why raw strength was another matter. He had that to spare.

Zande's striated muscles quivered and bulged, straining with obscene force as a continuous gout of steamy breath streamed from his gaping mouth in a long, gutteral sigh of effort, like a tea pot that hadn't quite boiled yet.
He could throttle a gorilla when in under the influence of his maddening, supernatural drug.
Forget ten minutes. Now that the headhunter had set his mind on breaking out of the binds, seconds might be all Tanya had.

[EmptyArmor]

Tanya's heartbeat strained in her chest, every thump pushing her a little further past her limit. This was a battle between demons, and surviving it was hell. She felt it in every bone, every sinew, this monster's damnable resistance to damnation. Even after all this time, even after she'd dealt what should have been the killing blow, it stood here straining against her will. If it came down to it, she'd just have to snuff his out.

Use no weapon.

Those were the terms that burned between her thoughts, the strings that kept her from simply murdering the cannibal outright. But if it came to willpower, she had the force within her to take a... different... interpretation of her malefic tattoo's abilities.

With a shaky, clammy grasp, she took a deep breath and held it as she wrapped her fingers around her knife. Against everything in her nature, her soul screaming in pain, she drew it from its leather scabbard and willed it up, up, until she'd drawn the blade level with her shoulder. She pushed forward, as if moving through sand, even as a mist of exertion escaped Zande's gaping jaws. For some reason, he was resisting the effects of the Rules Snake. Even if it meant giving her soul, Tanya reasoned it would be better to feed the devil she knew. If Zande managed to power through the demonic pact, fail to play by the rules she had imposed, Tanya would jam her knife through his eye. It might mean that she'd die, or worse; her face was set, as blood dribbled down her chin. If it meant she could take this fucker down with her, so be it. Feathers began to manifest around Tanya once more, her last Feather of Innocence taking wing as Zande broke free from the Binding Contract.

[Doc Doctor]

It was a vast world with many kinds of people. For some does power manifest differently. Zande had made good on his rebuttal, but yet had Tanya offered a recourse of her own. His last terms had been "use no weapon". In the stead of another round of terms, she had instead opted to claw at his torso and scream for his soul. Even if that were meant to be a term, any wiseass magician or Harvard lawyer in this realm or the next would be quick to point out that such a thing would be, in a court of law, referred to as a claim and an iffy one at best. Not only that, but she was plunging through her own taboo to try and make a kill. If the innate power to take souls at a touch was indeed within her grasp, then one with as much living vigor as the terrible Zande would have a high resistance to an attack with so little metaphysical weight. Ah, but a dagger to the eye. Now that was the sort of thing that could snuff a monkey real good. But Tanya was not the only one that had a nasty trick up her sleeve. The human body can hold just as many surprises as a wizard's hat.

Zande's body went soft after the dagger was raised, his muscles sagging and bulging outwards. Flabby. Plump. As if they had become putty beneath his skin. Self induced hyposthenia. He allowed himself to weaken. To give in a little. To let her win, just a bit. He knew she would probably see her chance and go for it. A momentary lapse through which she may try to shove her essence through in one titanic assault. Go for it. Stab. Skewer. Pull out the soul.

Except...
The cannibal had only brought his body to the supreme point of relaxation so that he could then contract it with the greatest amount of force that he could possibly exert. The brief power he exploded with now would make his strength from before seem like that of a pregnant schoolmarm. He intended to obliterate any hold she had over him in a single go. The knife could be dealt with after he was free. Paltry steel may draw out his blood, but once he had ruined her aim, in which way might be reckoned with depending upon how she'd react to his actions, then he would be back in his familiar territory. A physical plane where he could freely maul her to death.