Old passage that I wrote trying to depict an action sequence.
It was unnaturally dark and the silence hung uncomfortably in the still air. A sudden movement behind abruptly broke the silence. Sweat began to accumulate on my forehead, running down my face in rivulets passing through my eyebrows and stinging my eyes. My heart skept a beat as I heard heavy breathing next to me. Instinctively, I turned my head towards the source. Even though I couldn’t see who, or what, it was, I already knew. Having gathered up all the courage I could muster, I swung at it. My fist made a “swish” noise before reaching the point of contact. The breathing went and came simultaneously, sounding more exhausted each time. Then, satisfied, I kicked at the fading ragged breaths. This time, my blow made no contact. Surprise overwhelmed me as I felt my leg whizz through nothingness. Something hurtled towards me from behind. I tumbled helplessly forward, landing face-first in the dirt. Another blow hurtled my way as I recovered my senses. Having easily dodged it, I kicked the source furiously in the chest. The breathing slowed, I smiled as it became almost inaudible. A voice reminds me that “almost” doesn’t count.