Feral instincts take over me once in a while.
This night was one of those whiles.
I know that no one that ever knew me would pick a fight with me, but tonight some people didn't know me.
I'm neither brutal or cruel, I always liked a bit of elegance in everything I did, and fights were no exceptions.
I move faster than most expect, and surely than what those two guys expected tonight,
so the looks of surprise when their serrated pocket knife was in my hand and cut both arms of a guy were priceless.
I told them to run, and leave me the knife, but they insisted that I was going to be the victim.
Another cut was made, then another, all just skin deep.
I caught a couple of blows too, but I kept my stance.
They ran after noticing the blood dripping.
I'm not an animal, I let them run,
but as always I kept the knife for my collection.