With such a swift and vague movement he threw his fists, rose to his feet, still gripping the front of the criminal's shirt, then kicked him in the stomach, sending the man tumbling backwards against the table that had been overturned, making a grievous creaking sound between the bones shattering and the wood breaking.
He grabbed the other man, not caring that the size of the man it was much bigger than him, then pushed, cornering him against the glass wall.
"Kyu!" cried Elektra, intending to stop her after the woman came out of her shock.
"Get out of the way," Kalan said in a low voice when he felt the woman's presence behind him. "Don't come near me. My emotions are out of control." He tightened his grip—or choking it—on the neck of the last remaining man, staring intently, trying not to turn around. He wouldn't spit out his anger on Elektra. And he's trying.
"Please?" he asked again because she didn't move away.
