Butterfly

The Butterfly took a deep breath, and her palms broke into a sweat. This time her task was to locate and annihilate the enemy in the dark and narrow corridor. The target could escape at any moment, and she only had a few clues. As if celebrating the occasion, little Halloween pumpkin lamps hung on every door in the long corridor, seemingly for the Monster Festival. The Butterfly had a very keen sense of intuition; only one of the doors was not locked. A dim light came from inside through the half-shut door--obviously, it was meant to tell passersby that there was no one inside. She drew closer to the door slowly, and a beefy figure gradually came into sight from the darkness, just as she had anticipated. Her target saw her at the same time she spotted him. He wasn't empty-handed; the hunting-knife in his hand frightened her. "I don't think I'll lose when it comes to using a knife!" It was only after years of training that the Butterfly became confident enough about her knife-fighting abilities. A single meter, just enough for her to turn and charge at the enemy. Blade in. Blade out. The figure collapsed. "Target down. Task completed."