New Fiction: The Recovery of Rez

The spirit of the story has taken me off to another world again. What follows is the introduction to something which has been percolating in the back of my mind for almost a month. Finally it came to life. It probably won’t be too terribly long, but it’s good for a few posts.
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The metal claws made a hideous sound scraping across the transparent surface of the bubble, but were unable to so much as leave a scratch. These cargo bubbles were very tough, but he had never planned to find out just how tough, not like this.
If her claws of exotic super-hardened alloy could have cut through the crystal clear material which composed the bubble, she would have followed up with a slice on his body, as well. Lots of slices, probably. He would survive for awhile until she grew bored with abusing him, then she would find some way to make his death slow and painful. Of this he had no doubt.
So this is what his teachers at the Brotherhood called a psychopath, someone clearly possessed by demons. He didn’t cower; he simply watched. He was pretty sure sooner or later she would tire of this game and wander off in search of other victims. He’d have to make sure he wasn’t around for a second encounter with her.
She was too much like someone else who had almost destroyed him.