to terrorise the town. An old battle axe that you wouldn’t cross on a normal day, tough as nails with skin as thick as leather. He had a name for her in the previous incarnation of society - “Viking Genetics” - and always thought she would make a great security guard somewhere.
The last week has not been kind to her however and today, with her bloodshot eyes and mean looking down, she looked even more grizzly than normal.
The sunlight brought the yellow tint in her skin into full colour too.
“This is it” he begins to think to himself, but instinctively he continues his forward advance before any attack can begin. Without pause he drives his elbow into the chest of the savage looking