He dropped flat on the ground, then swung out a foot, catching the not-so-dead woman behind the knee. She stumbled and came crashing down on top of him, still clinging to the knife.
He cocked his head to the side as the knife narrowly missed him. Grabbing her by the arms, he shoved her to the side and then came down on top of her, wrestling her hands above her head. She bit his nose, he pulled back on her hair, she spit in his eyes and then brought a knee up, catching him between his legs.
Robert reeled back, as she came at him with the knife once again. He ducked and twisted, drilling the top of his head into her stomach, and then lifted, tossing the woman backwards over his head.
She twisted in the air, but landed back on her feet, still holding the knife, and charged once more. Robert knocked the knife from her hands, then took the sheets he had gathered and draped them over her head before yanking back.
The woman fell backwards, struggling as Robert continued to encase her in the sheets, rolling them up, forming a sack around the woman. He lifted the woman-sack over his back, then swung it in the air with both hands above his head, while working his way over to where the knife had fallen.
Taking the knife between his bare toes, he kicked up and released, catching the dagger's handle with his teeth. Then he placed the sack against the wall and spit out the knife as hard as he could, piercing both the top of the sack and the wall.
Exhausted, he stepped back and looked at his handiwork. The sack...and the woman...hung, pinned to the wall, about four feet off the ground. Though she continued to struggle, she couldn't break free from the sheets.
"Now," he growled, "Start talking."