PART 41 - RUMBLE

 My neck, turned itself like the unscrewing of a light bulb, with the lightning quick, whisk of air, from the strike of a metal bar, injecting a blood bursting intoxication of fear, sinking into my thin, exhausted fingers, which dug into the diamond hard, surface of the boulder. The flesh tearing and bone crunching, gore of the battle, clasped its hands into the tinted and dusty surface of my goggles, plunging my fighting spirit into the air, springing my legs, through the small dunes of sand. A few matter of seconds, called an awakening, deep and coarse shout, crashing its decibels, through the vicinity of pungent sweat, swirling, after every punch, kick and strike of objects, into flesh and breaking boulders. My strongly focused attention, was abruptly shattered, and strung like a kitten with a ball of string to Azoe, to his vein popping clench of fists, that were bathed and generously painted with blood, to his elbow, and a fair amount onto the thread hanging tears of his clothing. "Never! Never again! WE FIIIIGGHHT!" He shouted, as his voice grew coarser, and his eyes, matched the colour with his fists. Before, I could get back into my giant old tree rooted stability and pin point marksman concentration, the freezing cold surface of metal, collided on the heavy material of my jacket, fixating, shrieking, nerve pulsating pain, through the entirety of my right arm.

Balance, became like a paper bag, flowing with the currents of wind, as my voice, punched strain onto my throat, and the weakness in my arm, oozed, wave after wave of the pulsation of my blood pressure. "AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGH!" I shouted, thrusting the overpouring bubbling aggression, surging into a dive, sinking my teeth, into the flesh of the arm of the henchmen. A swing after another swing, I flung in the air like a fish, struggling to let go off a hook that has caught it. I flew, various punches, knocking, a weakening, henchman, suddenly, overflowing my confidence as my carnivore rage, clenched further into the flesh before, carelessly ripping the flesh, off the arm. Blood, washed and trickled itself, through the stained, threads of the torn openings, of the mask, when I stood up, and the henchman, crawled on the ground like a earthworm burrowing into the soil. "Ohhh... My friend" Azoe's once, coarse voice, sunk a tone lower and he turned to me.

My droplet stained goggles, had a view of Azoe, blurring with every passing second. The thick smear of blood, slithered through the moist surface of tongue and continuous wriggles, as my knees, crashed into another sea wave movement, and the surface of my knee cap, dug into the soil, as the blurry view continued and drowziness, flooding at the brim of eyelashes.