Star Wars: The Chosen One || An Anakin Skywalker Story [COMPLETED]

Thirty-Seven || Beaten

His gloved hand reaches to the side, slamming against the door, searching down the door for the switch that would open it. It had to be here, it had to be here somewhere -

The thick black glove finds something... A button. He presses it, and with a swoosh the metal door slides open, his back falling into the open space of the room. She loses her stature and stumbles a bit as he regains his posture, ready to block her again.

But at the same instant, they do the same thing - they raise their hands in attempt to Force push one another. Two forces of energy - light and dark - pushing against one another, their hands inches from each other as they use all their energy, yet the opposing forces don't give in. She scowls, her face complex with anger, hatred. They were both overcome with sweat, and even fear... But Demetrious was too arrogant. She knew she was going to win this.

Their shields of energy are only so compatible as they both hit each other at the same time. At last, they give in, their bursts of energy smacking both of them simultaneously. They both fly back, Demetrious slamming against the metal wall and Anakin slamming against a monitor, switching something that let out a howling monotone throughout the Imperial cruiser.

He groans softly as he gets up, reestablishing his stature, his lightsaber in front of him as she quickly leaps up, back-flipping dramatically through the air and ending with a collision of their sabers again. She strikes him again and again as he continues to shield her, yielding his saber before him, clashing it with hers as her anger infiltrated her, making her more powerful with every strike she took.

They exit the control room, lost for a sense of direction, her mind focused on killing him, his mind focused on not dying. It was an incredible sight; Sith versus Jedi, the blades of light colliding at a second's pace, quickly, harshly, with every movement, every conjoined effort of anger and fear.

They turn a corridor, still battling. Anakin was walking backwards now; she was plummeting the saber into his, gritting her teeth, clenching her fists around the saber. Her hair swung loose around her face, shading the anger in her veins, her eyes, her pale face.

His waves of hair clung to his sweaty face, the long locks getting in his way, almost in his eyes - which didn't seem to be a problem for her. She continued swinging, striking, taking heavy, rushed breaths with every strike.

The corridor led to a bridge connected to a hallway atop a Clone hangar, looking down upon it. On either sides of the narrow bridge was an unprotected trench that Demetrious planned on throwing Anakin down when given the opportunity.

They practically run towards the bridge as she pushes further and further, her feet moving quickly and stratigically beneath her like a dance routine; his feet were shuffling against the ground as he backed away from her swings, every one she took. Her feet neared his; with every step their boots were almost atop one another as he stepped back and she stepped forward.

To the far left and right of the narrow bridge were two other platforms with elevators on them to reach the Clone's hangars, but the elevators were unable to be reached from the narrow, lit-up bridge.

As they entered the bridge, Demetrious' anger was so apparent and surrounding that she was able to shatter the eleavtor from the inside out - Anakin's stomach churns at the ear-splitting sound of twisting, expanding metal as her anger bursted the elevator to her far right, a good distance across the trench from the bridge.

She throws up one half of the saber above his head which he blocks as they enter the hallway looking down upon one of the empty hangars. The other side of her saber strikes below his chest, another thing he is able to block as he staggers against the railing of the hallway, regaining his stance. He turns and has his back facing the long hallway as she continues to take all her anger out on him.