Nov 30 2008
Tyler Durden’s Back! (My Fight Club)
I see a lot of new faces here. Ready to get into a fight? Yeah. We’re at another meeting here–we’re ready to break some teeth, some noses–we’re bringin’ the blood. Remember, two to a fight. I’ve got another scene for you. This is, again, from THE CAIN LETTERS. We’re going consecutively here with the scenes. Here it goes, people. Clip your nails, rings off, shoes off. Bring it.
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“Stop, Mason!” she screamed. “Don’t make me stop you!”
She chased him down Vermont so long that her lungs burned. The congestion of people and cars diminished a little as they came across a freer street, cars driving faster down the road, less people. She had a better view of him. She vowed not to lose him.
Some pedestrians screamed at the chase, startled by it. Mason almost ran over a few innocents. The more she saw him throw that caution to the wind, the more she seethed. He had no respect for human life at all.
They came to a bridge.
Mason slid short halfway across, about to climb over—
“No!” she roared, picking up speed, getting another wind of energy. “Stop!”
He just perched atop the railing, about to dive.
Alexandra leaped forward, close to him—just a few feet away—
No escape—not if she could help it. Her lungs, about to burst, she screamed.
She gripped the railing and swung over it, defying gravity. Her muscles pulled and she gritted her teeth and her eyesight tightened at the sight of him looking as if he achieved victory in eluding her. She held her breath, tightened her legs.
One fierce kick into his chest sent him flailing backward into the street.
Innocents around realized what had happened and started to run, screaming. Drivers honked their horns, swerving out of the way as Mason brought himself to his feet.
Alexandra had swung back onto the sidewalk, eyes locked on him.
His fury burned—eyes like cold diamonds and teeth sharp enough to shred flesh.
Mason howled in anger, clenching his fists at his side.
Cars darted on both sides of him, hoping not to connect—
Only by a hair. And yet, Mason didn’t flinch.
She pounced out into the street with him—among the flashing cars and the wailing horns. He hissed hideously.
They fought in the middle of the street, cars racing around them, just barely grazing them off the pavement. She tried to grapple him but only met counters with his hands, gripping her wrists and thrusting a knee. She pulled her knee in and blocked, breaking free of his grip and snapping her fist into his face.
He grunted and shot back at her, nearly reeling her back into an oncoming car—
She felt it. She struggled hard to stay standing.
Mason threw a set of kicks at her—relentless and quick.
But Alexandra had resolve.
Her eyes focused, and the world…seemed to slow down for her. She felt her breath…she saw the slow-moving kicks come closer to her face…she closed her eyes.
She crossed her arms up left and right and felt the brunt of his attacks on her forearms. She grunted furiously.
She snatched his ankle in mid-strike and tried spinning him out.
He consolidated the switch of gravity…with a cat’s awareness…and swatted her in the face with one swift kick, landing safely, softly.
It stung her sharp, her skin screaming with pain as her sight got a little fuzzy for just a second—
She saw, however, Mason.
“You want answers? Ask your God!” he said, and fled.
Off the corner of her eye, she saw the Berith Lochem’s van screech and slide in—
Off the corner of her other eye, she saw a car—
Racing toward her.
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Feel the blood, warriors. Feel the pain. I know you do. There’s nothing better than a fight scene in the middle of the street with racing cars surrounding you. Get your blood boiling. Get your racing. Who’s next?
