fistfight - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
First thing to know in a fight: you're going to be nervous as hell. At least I was. All the training and sparring didn't do me no good when me and Joe were pushed into the circle. Well, I was pushed. I was trying to walk away, to go on and forgive and forget what Joe said. But the crowd chose for me. The other side of me chose for me. Behind the screaming, and curses and flashing phones out, and all eyes on the two of us, was just the hammering of my heart, its very great attempt to escape my chest. Nothing else ran through my mind. Second thing to know in a fight: no amount of scenarios in your head will prepare you. That's if you can even think. My body was jolting with a new vigor, an untapped rage that was boiling up from my stomach, to the rest of my body. I felt hot. I didn't even notice my fists were clenching until blood came back on them. I was too busy staring across the arena as Joe who was roaring at me, like a lion. I stared at him again and realized he wasn't no lion. Behind the cursing and threats, he was fidgeting, moving back and forth. If he was so angry at me, he would have been ramming his fists into me. But his eyes confirmed the rest. he was just as scared as I was. Didn't expect to be in a predicament as this. Guess we both were gonna have something to tell our parents today.
I take no pleasure in taking you down. None. It's just necessary. You love to hurt and I can't heal my family with you around. Giving mercy is good until it is proven to hurt the innocent, then see me come out fighting. I haven't even swung a punch yet and I see you quiver. How weak you are. This isn't cruelty, this is mercy and justice combined. You cannot control yourself and so I control you. Fight me and you know I'll win, or maybe you like gambling? It's a sin, you know, as is greed.
Some are jealous of a master, others come to learn. Enter my dojo and I will teach. Show me disrespect and you can find your own way out. Show me you are better and I bow to you and learn. I am not arrogant, I'm just good, very good. So perhaps you want a fistfight, fine by me, come empty handed and we'll see who leaves with their pride in a sling.
I never came looking for a fight. I am a pacifist by nature, but no-one stands back and watches their child be injured unless they are a defective moron. I'm not. So hands are up, I see you there, coward, analyzing your next move. I hear your devil tongue and my art is greater. So come crude boxer, come, and see what a true master can do.
There is blood on my knuckles and a bruise above my right eye, yet I can't recall the fight itself. They say they'll be hell to pay, but I got what I wanted. She's safe. The victory is mine. So if you want another round I'll wait in the shadows, fists lowered. But should I see you know that I trained with a master and my fists are faster than yours. I know how you think, you're thinking of bringing a gun. I'm a sharp shooter too. I hit the target every single time. So come and have a go if you think you're hard enough, otherwise, you know what you can do with yourself.
I heard you call my name and I raised my fists; now I hear you call the name of my child and it's war. You come for her; I stand in the way. You taunt her, threaten or come near and I will demolish you. I will show you every ounce of my power because I love her. She is my child, my only daughter and my love knows no bounds. Should my hands break I will beat you with my broken bones until you are nothing but dust. This isn't a bluff. This if for real. I am a mother, this is what mothers do.
I didn't know who threw the first punch, but suddenly my fist was slamming into her face while she sunk into my stomach. Blood pooled in her mouth as I gagged. We stumbled apart for a brief second to catch our breaths before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination.
I dodged her fist and came up with my own; for a brief instant, her cerulean blue eyes widened before she managed to tilt her head back and slam it into mine. Stars burst in my vision but I shook it off, blinding throwing a sloppy kick.
She stepped back, easily evading the kick. "Is that all you got?" she crowed, smirking infuriatingly at me. I growled and threw myself at her, changing direction at the last minute.
My blood hummed in my veins as determination and anger took over.
I had never punched anyone before, so I was incredibly suprised at the pain that blazed up my arm as my fist connected with his jaw.
He threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to my face, it hit my jaw with such force blood pooled into my mouth. Pain erupted from the point of impact. With my own two hands I grasped his head in my hands and brought my knee cap up to his nose, there was a blunt crack and I released his dark haired head. Crimson leaked from both his nostrils and his nose was twisted right. He drew his fist back again and it ploughed into my stomach, it was like hitting a train head on. My guts smashed together, blood vessels bursting. I repaid this by punching his jaw, my fish collided with all my body weight. I continued this battering until he fell to the floor. His chest gently rose and sank with each shallow breath he drew in.
He wasn’t thinking when he let out his boiling antipathy and swung his tight fist, too quick and potent, into Luca’s defined jaw; the impact like thousands of venomous blades piercing apart his clammed fist. It lead him to one conclusion: that it hurt.