Fight.

Shiki's instincts kicked in. She ran over and grabbed a dull, but workable knife. As long as it was a blade with a decent amount of reach, her eyes would make quick work of anything. She just had to close the distance. The man was wielding a large machete though. If he was quick enough, he could cut down Shiki before she has a moment to close that gap between them. Still, there wasn't anything more to do, but resist him. If she didn't then she'd surely die here.

The Butcher made the first move, coming around the table as he held up that large blade. Although his first steps were heavy, as soon as he closed in he suddenly moved swiftly and quick. Shiki held up that knife as she rolled out of the way, still feeling herself weakened and battered from the earlier **** to her body. If only she wasn't so battered. She was still suffering a pounding migraine due to that heavy kick to her skull. Seeing her dodge out of the way, the man turned and made another charge for her. Again, much like before, Shiki dodged the slash at her, the blade clanging against the ground, before the man started swinging wildly at her. For a fat man, he was surprisingly quick, even if he had practically no finesse in fighting with a bladed weapon. Shiki felt her back press against the table, and before he stabbed into her, she rolled to the side, letting the machete stab and jam itself against the table before kicking him in the leg and making some distance between the two of them.

Now was her chance. As the man tried to pull the machete out from the table, she charged forward against him. He must have realized his predicament as well, as he soon let go of the stuck weapon, and turned to face her, ready to try and grab at her with his arms wide open and reaching out. As her eyes glowed, the lines of **** ran across the man's body. The center point of his **** in his head.