Left . . . left . . . right . . . left . . . bob . . . weave . . . shuffle, then BANG! 

Right hook. 

The pounding sound of the hits she delivered to the punching bag echoed off of the hard glass mirrors of the gymnasium, sweat traced her determined features. After the assembly in the auditorium, Catalina had managed to sneak into gym. It was here that she disciplined her mind and body, where she burned away her weaknesses and mortality by tapping into the 'hidden secrets' of her mind. Her taped knuckles protested as slammed her fist into the plastic fabric. 

"[b]...What else did I expect from someone who calls for daddy to help her instead of dealing with it herself.[/b]"

Inhale.

Catalina literally saw red; she then used every pugilistic skill she knew and applied that on the body of her victim. Her heart beat rapidly from the intense work out, the feeling of rage begin to surface for the fifth time today. The rage and power are no less, just controlled and focused, like the sun blazing through a magnifying glass, and turned into a burning beam of laser light. Wild punches become deliberate attacks, months of training and technique surface in muscle memory, and the archer's flailing becomes the calculated dance of a trained warrior.  

"[b]...someone who calls for daddy..[/b]"

Exhale.

Catalina paused for a moment, hugged the swaying bag and place her forehead to rest against the bruised wall of the bag, panting. How much she desired to...

[i]Escape.[/i]

Relief washed over her, as the thought of her lungs push it's final breathe, to her sweet escape. Catalina never had nothing to fear; growing up in a environment where any sign of weakness was unacceptable. Catalina crumbled down to the ground as she welcomed the weight of exhaustion.  Swinging bag swayed, she raised her eyes toward the ceiling and froze. Time stopped as her mind raced. 

" *[i]Slabuţ, Catalina...[/i]"

His words echoed her troubled mind. Soon her body was screaming in protest, still she ignored it, lying motionless and breathing deeply. 

Her father; the man radiant pure evil. In this lifetime, she was just a pawn. [i]His[/i] pawn. Catalina never thought how different the darkness would affect a person, the darkness that thirst for one's soul. Passion poured fuel onto the flickering ember in her soul. Yet, a piece of her had a reason to fight, a reason to survive. That drive will either make her more determined or destroy her. A bitter smile touched Catalina's lips, pushed herself to her feet in one fluid motion. 

She went into a stretching routine. Working quick and smoothly, she began to stretch and loosen all the things that had tightened during her long 'meditation'. The stretching issued pain and protests of it's own, but she ignored this, also. When she had loosened all her major muscle groups, she climbed onto the treadmill that sat ready waiting on the floor. Starting up a fast pace, Catalina continued to focus on her body. Everything seemed to hurt. However, she continued to run, pushing her body harder and faster. Soon her body was screaming in protest and still she ignored it as she ran harder and faster with every step. 

*Weak