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No Where To Run (standard:drama, 358 words) | |||
Author: Rimmer | Added: Sep 30 2008 | Views/Reads: 3222/0 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
What it's like to be in a fight. | |||
Nowhere To Run It pounds you in the chest, stealing your breath. Vision fades as the unconscious mind awakens. Primal instincts forces air back into your lungs. Your muscles tense, the pulse quickens. While your stomach feels like it's freefalling into oblivion. There's nowhere to run. The only option left is to fight. You try to stay calm, but the adrenalin and uncertainty is overwhelming. You're not a warrior this is all so new. The senses sharpen, becoming sensitive to all things. Your mind begins to race. To much information is coming to you at once. Your soul begins to withdraw. Rational thoughts, reason, and enlightened emotions have no place to go. The animal within is awakening. It knows what must be done. The creature that was you, now finds its center of gravity, turning its side to the threat, in an attempt to reduce the risk. It raises your arms to protect the head, throat, and chest. Balancing on the balls of your feet, with knees slightly bent. The beast which was you is now ready. Barely a moment has gone by between the first hit and now. Everything had occurred with very little conscious thought. Looking forward the beast is instinctively judging distance and strength. You see not a person, only pain. You've got your second breath now. It's time to fight. The mind screams reminding you this is battle, not sport. You both swing. They with a left punch, yours is a right. Both connecting, and both swinging and striking each other again and again. Bones crack and break. Skin and muscle bruise and swells. Blood flows from cuts not there just a moment ago. Your ears fill with screams of pain and rage. With a frenzied lucky blow, you hit and crush their windpipe. They drop to the ground, knowing the Reaper is coming. Time moves slower now. While you watch helplessly as the poor soul claws at their throat. Searching for one last breath. A moment passes by and they loss consciousness. Becoming very still. Life's color runs from their face. The battle is over you have won, or so we've been told. Tweet
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