She looked at her fists that hung by her sides. They were shaking, dripping, hot. Her eyes pierced the sky as she looked up and walked forward, leaving the desert behind. The heat blew grains of sand. Behind her lay a heap of grown-men with childish eyes and broken smirks.
She wiped her hands on her jeans, leaving streaks of red, and flicked a little flesh into the air, watching it land beside a lizard, which snaked into the cactus landscape. It was hot like Hell. She loved it, and she had plenty more skulls to crack.