Under Her Cursed Scythe

She took notice of the cold, hard concrete ground far below her, without any soft bushes or a green lawn. Still, she fell back a few steps, heaved her shoulders and charged towards the balcony.

When she was a foot away from it, the sprint led to a jump as if she was leaping over a hurdle.

And afterwards, she was arrowing down with blinding speed.

The concrete ground grew closer and closer by second but the feeling of "warping" seemed slower than before. There was a second when her head was alarmingly close to the ground. A sense of concern crawled up in her chest and she wondered whether she had spoken out the right words.