I don't normally do these, but last night I came across the Fight Scene Blogfest and decided to give it a try. Here's a fight scene from the story I'm writing I hope you enjoy it.
My concern for his safety starting to evaporate I pushed away from him and took a staggering step back.
He reached for me again, but I pushed his hand away.
“Stay… away… from… me,” I ground the words out from between clinched teeth. I had to force the last words out around a mouthful of blood as my newly sprouted fangs sliced their way through my cheek.
“Be nice,” he said taking another step towards me and forcing me to take another step back to maintain the distance between us.
I had crossed the little street by now and had run up against the building on the other side. Considering the fact that the cramps were getting so bad that I was getting near to the point where I might not be able to stand up on my own this was actually a good thing, “I… said… stay… away… you… bastard!”
Almost as soon as the words left my mouth I realized that in this particular situation they might have been a mistake because suddenly I had more to worry about than just getting out of there before I killed him.
In a move that was faster than I would have given him credit for his hand came up to slap me. At the last second I threw my arm up parrying his blow, and his wrist connected harmlessly with my forearm
He had missed my face, but the move hadn’t been without result. In one stupid move he had just thrown away any hope that he had had.
My adrenaline surged, my control wavered for just a second, and then the curse kicked in.
My legs steadied almost instantly. The pain in my stomach disappeared. My half formed fangs disappeared.
There would be time for all of that later, but it wasn’t later yet.
The curse had already taken over my mind and it was shifting changing, but even in its present state I still knew one thing: before he died he would lie on the ground blood pouring out of him and he would beg me to stop. Just like I had seen Olya beg him. Only after that would I kill him.
Making him suffer would be his punishment. Killing him would just… make it that much better.
My first move was obvious. As he was staring at my arm in dismay I curled the fingers of my other hand and thrust my palm at his face. It connected with his nose, and as the blood began to poor out of it he dropped his arm, grabbing his nose with both hands as he staggered backwards trying to put distance between us.
As soon as he had moved out of my range my first instinct was to lung at him. Go for the throat. Go for the kill, but the part of my mind that would always be human knew that that wasn’t the smart move.
No, at this moment there was no way in hell that he could stop me from killing him if I made my lung, but it was more than that. The curse just wouldn’t let me do. He had to suffer first it demanded it.
I dropped into a fighting stance just the way Adam had taught me. My left foot slid forward and my left arm came up at a right angle to my shoulder to guard from another attach to my face. I balled my other hand up into a fist and let it slide into a waiting position just above my right hip.
I smiled at him. This was my game now.
Then I advanced on him.
I threw out a few jabs, but I was just testing his reaction. Playing with him would probably be a better word for it.
He either dodged or blocked me pretty easily.
From his moves he’d either had some form of training or he’d been in more than a few fights. Considering the fact that he beat his girlfriend I’d guess that it was the later.
The only problem with him having experience was that he knew that I was just testing him, and he was expecting something hard and fast.
After a few jabs things were starting to get boring, so I decided to just cut to the chase and give it to him.
With all of my might I pulled my arm up and swung for his neck. He saw it coming and stepped back.
My blow missed his neck by a mile.
… But my leg didn’t miss. While he had been watching my arm I had stabilized my legs and as my arm missed I lashed out with my right leg catching him with a round house to the stomach.
He staggered back, stumbled a little, and then fell on his ass.
When he hit the ground his torso fell back, and his head snapped back slamming into the pavement.
I just looked at him for a second. I had been hoping for something a little… more drawn out… more… painful, but this is what I had gotten.
I’d just have to deal with it.
For a second I didn’t move I just stood there looking down at him hoping that he would get back up, ready to fight.
He didn’t. He just lay there eyes closed breathing steadily but refusing to wake up and fight me.
Screwed up perv, didn’t even know how to die right.