2. Apartment Fight Scene
This fight scene is a little longer than the last one, but it needed more of a setup for the final payoff. I hope you guys aren’t put off by the length and read it til the end, I think it held up petty nicely.
Tyson walked back from his refrigerator with a can of soda in his hand. He weaved around the kitchen counter, grabbing a bowl of popcorn from the countertop with his free hand. He set his things next to the pizza box that rested on his coffee table before sitting on the sofa and propping his feet up. He grabbed the TV remote and powered up his system as the movie started to load.
It had been a long week, and Tyson was looking forward to treating himself to a nice day off without any interruptions. The wife was out of town and the phone was shut off to block any potential distractions. For once, Tyson was determined to watch a movie from beginning to end without having to stop it for any reason.
He stared at the ceiling fan while he waited for the previews to finish when there was a knock at the door. He gave a strained look over to the door; he wasn’t expecting any company. The knocks grew in frequency and intensity as Tyson reluctantly got up and headed for the door.
“I’m coming, hold it.”
As soon as the bolt lock clicked over, the door swung open and a young man charged in. He grabbed Tyson by the shoulders and stared into his eyes.
“You’re not safe here, we need to go now.”
“Who are you?” Tyson asked in a puzzled voice.
“Eric, but that doesn’t matter right now. We need to leave.”
Before Tyson could say anything, a figure sprang off of the doorframe and kicked at him. Eric pushed Tyson out of the way, taking the kick to the chest and falling to the floor while Tyson remained unharmed.
“Get back!” Eric motioned to Tyson as a second person entered the apartment.
Tyson took a few steps back as Eric got to his feet, the two men standing on each side of him.
“Good thing we followed you,” the one on the left spoke. ”You led us right to him.”
“Cliff is right,” the second one chimed in. “You were careless, Eric.”
“I won’t let you take him, Wes.” Eric replied, his eyes darting back and forth between the two men.
“That’s not your decision.” Cliff answered, lowering his body into a fighting stance.
Eric glanced over at Wes when Cliff sprang forward. Eric leaned his body back, letting Cliff’s fist pass in front of him before driving his knee into Cliff’s stomach. Cliff bent over in pain, and Wes’ foot swiped over him, hitting Eric in the chest and sending him back a few steps.
Tyson watched as Eric ducked under a punch and retaliated with a jab of his own. Eric lifted his arm to block a kick from Cliff when Wes swept his legs out from under him. Wes went to jump over Eric and grab Tyson, but Eric lifted his legs and pushed Wes out of the air and into the kitchen counter, the small of his back hitting the granite top.
Eric sprang to his feet and waved Cliff over. Cliff jabbed twice at Eric’s face, missing his target and kicking Eric’s body before snapping his foot into his face. A second kick followed, but Eric grabbed it and pushed upward, flipping Cliff over onto his back.
“That all you-“ Eric started before Wes tackled him from the side, the two of them crashing through the coffee table.
Wes tried to wrap his arms around Eric’s neck, but was elbowed in the head before he could do anything. Eric spun around, sitting on Wes and raising his fist when Cliff grabbed him and lifted him up. He punched Eric’s midsection and face before spinning and driving his heel into Eric’s body. Eric flew back, bouncing off of a bookshelf and hitting the ground before the shelf fell on top of him.
“Grab him,” Cliff ordered Wes, pointing at Tyson.
Wes did as ordered, walking toward Tyson when a book flew in front of his face, forcing him to stop.
“Where you guys goin?” Eric asked, twirling a second book with his left hand.
He ran forward, throwing the book in Cliff’s face and jumping into the air. He kicked off of Cliff’s chest and propelled his body toward Wes, landing and swiping at him. Wes blocked the attack with his elbow, snapping his fist into Eric’s face. Eric took a second punch to the face, but leaned backwards to evade a high kick. While upside down, he saw Cliff approaching and stood back up, avoiding an axe kick by a fraction of a second.
Eric jumped and kicked Cliff in the chest with one foot before twisting his body around and delivering a second blow. Cliff flew back and hit the ground as Eric twirled to see Wes heading towards him.
Wes charged forward, grabbing Eric’s shirt and driving his knees into Eric’s chest. Eric tried his best to block the strikes with his hands, but it wasn’t lessening the impact. As Wes stepped back for another strike, Eric leaned his head back, ramming his forehead into Wes’.
Eric turned around and noticed Cliff in the air, his leg extended for a kick. Eric swiveled out of the way, watching the kick hit Wes and launchhim into Tyson’s entertainment center, knocking the TV off of the stand.
Cliff landed and pivoted his body, firing a high kick that was aimed at Eric’s temple. The blow connected, and Eric quickly ducked under a punch. He proceeded to swat away two consecutive kicks, pushing Cliff back with a kick of his own.
Eric let out a quick exhale, looking over to see Wes groaning and getting to his knees. Eric focused his attention back on Cliff, taking a step forward and throwing a quick punch.
Cliff swayed out of Eric’s reach, grabbing his wrist and snapping his foot into Eric’s leg, torso, and head with three quick kicks. Wes leapt into the air, one foot pivoting off of the kitchen counter and propelling his other foot into Eric.
The strike broke Eric free of Cliff’s grasp, sending his body crashing through the glass dining table. Eric lay groaning on the floor as Cliff and Wes focused their attention on Tyson, who quickly turned and entered the nearest bedroom door, shutting it behind him.
Tyson held the door with his body, feeling the two men kick it from the other side. Each strike sent Tyson sliding back a couple of inches, and the screws mounting the door started to give way. After another kick, he realized that the door would break and stepped away. The door came crashing down, falling a few inches next to the bed that Tyson had instinctively climbed on.
Wes and Cliff stepped on the fallen door, not noticing Eric getting up and brushing the glass off of his body. The two walked toward Tyson when Eric broke into a sprint, running down the hall.
Eric leapt into the air, dropkicking both Cliff and Wes from behind. Cliff hit the bedpost while Wes stumbled and fell into a computer stand. Eric got up and rushed to Wes, ramming his elbow into Wes’ stomach before lifting him up and slamming him through the computer desk.
Eric stayed on top of Wes, punching repeatedly before grabbing his shirt and rolling off of him. Eric rolled backwards and put his foot in Wes’ stomach, flinging him into the air and cracking the bedroom window with his body. Wes let out a groan, trying to get up before eventually losing consciousness.
Eric rose and turned, only to realize that Cliff and Tyson were missing. He ran out of the bedroom, hearing Tyson’s voice and sprinting back down to the living room. Cliff tried to pull Tyson along, but didn’t have enough energy to do it.
Eric ran through the kitchen, vaulting off of the high countertop and grabbing the ceiling fan as he drove both feet into Cliff’s chest. Cliff flew back, his body hitting the sofa and knocking it down as the ceiling fan tore out of the socket, sending Eric crashing down to the apartment floor.
Tyson stared at Eric in shock as Eric pushed the fan off of his chest, coughing. He sat up, grunting as he got to his feet and grabbed Tyson’s wrist.
“All right, let’s get going before more of them come.”
“My god,” Tyson stammered, “look at my place!”
“It’s fine. You can’t live here anymore anyways, they know where you are. Your family has already been moved to a safer location. The sooner we go, the sooner you can see them. So stop dragging your feet, Jackson.”
“Jackson?”
“Yeah,” Eric scoffed. “Did you forget your real name after going undercover?”
“Undercover? What are you talking about? My name is Tyson Hartson.”
Eric’s smile faded as he stared back at Tyson. “What kind of name is that?”
“What do you mean? That’s my given name.”
Eric remained silent for a moment, deep in thought when he suddenly looked up and walked to the front door.
“Hey, where are you going?” Tyson asked angrily.
“What apartment is this?” Eric asked, his eyes fixated on the wall outside of the apartment.
“2B.”
“Damn it!” Eric shouted. “Oh man, I got the wrong place.”
“What do you mean?” Tyson asked, hoping there was a better explanation.
“I was supposed to go to 2A.”
“You what!?”
“My bad, man.”
“Your bad? You literally destroyed everything of value in my house.”
“…apartment”
“That’s not the point! Who’s gonna pay for this?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” Eric comforted. “I’ll make some calls-“ He stopped, spotting someone peering into the window at him.
“Hey…HEY!” Eric ran out of the apartment, leaving Tyson in the destroyed room.
Tyson ran to the door, but Eric was already halfway across the parking lot. He rested his head on his doorframe and let out a stifled laugh. Did all of that really just happen?
Some police sirens echoed through the complex and Tyson walked over to his pizza box, opening it and grabbing an unharmed slice. He pushed the couch back over and let out a long sigh. He was in a state of shock; his apartment was destroyed and there were two unconscious men in his bedroom.
He bit into the pizza and let out a scoff.
“My wife’s gonna kill me.”
