The chase

Heart pounding, I race down the empty street. My breath comes in short controlled bursts, I can hear them behind me. I don't know who they are or why they are after me, but they want me alive. I stop, a predatory grin lighting up my face, I turn and charge.

I attack their ranks with controlled coolness, ignoring the molten rage that wants to take over. Every movement measured, every hit precise, no fear, no joy, just the moment. I see my attackers clearly, their confidence is shaken as they realize they have just grabbed the tiger by the tail. The fight continues, blocking or rolling with attacks as they come at me, I continue to attack. The conflict is vicious and ugly, bones break under my fists, groans of those fallen fill the air. Suddenly it is over, their ranks turn and run, I stand, finally feeling the dull ache of hits taken, as adrenaline burns out.

And then I wake up. That was a very odd dream, it has been a long time since I had such a vivid dream that I remember. Even more strange is the content of the dream, not sure where that came from. I think part of the reason the dream made such an impact is the fact that my arms are quite sore at the moment, and the lingering feeling of victory.