I’ve been working on a sci-fi story and there’s still a lot of world building to be done. However, I’m kind of stuck with a fight scene. I’ve never written action so, I’m not so sure I hit the mark here. What are your thoughts? Please, be brutally honest.
Something burst out from beside him, crumpling the grass there. Fear filled his chest and his eyes rounded. He only had enough wit to spin to the side when a pale ball shot towards him. It spun with his movement, attracted like a magnet, and slammed into him. Thanos rolled, hoping to dislodge the parasite. It stuck like glue, tumbling with him until it pinned him to the dusty ground with a weight he hadn’t expected. Dust unsettled, lifting into a haze that blinded his view. The force sent pain blazing through his chest, stinging particles surging down his throat as he gasped. His blade swiped up, aiming for the obstruction. Hopefully, he would strike something vital. Finger-like objects whacked the inside of his elbow. It bent with an agonizing snap and those same objects gripped his wrist, twisting it. He swallowed down his scream, trying to buck the enemy off his hips.
“Quit being noisy!” The frustration that had been eating him up dissipated, leaving confusion in its stead.
The enemy leaned closer, face parting the film of dust to make itself known. He melted into the ground, sighing in relief. He would know this face anywhere.
“I told you to stay behind.”
“I chose to tag along.”
“You could get hurt. Leave.”
“You’re one to talk.” She whispered, bending his wrist further. His back arched, a muffled curse escaping him. Emiel was cruel when she wanted to have her way. Still, he couldn’t risk her life. Not when there was the possibility of his partner being put in danger.
“No one else passed the barrier. I didn’t think you would disobey me.”
“I listen to no one. Remember that.”
“Stay back. You’re-”
She rammed her fist into the ground so hard that it broke the soil, sinking in. Cracks slithered out from the hole, spreading out around them. Even the ground beneath him sunk in, more dust swimming into the air. Thanos gulped, glancing at the thin arm beside his head. Sweat broke out on his forehead. She wouldn’t hurt him but her anger wasn’t to be tampered with.
“A queen runs from no one.” She growled, then, shook her hand till it detached from the grove it had created. She wiped her unblemished knuckles on her gown and stood, offering her hand. The petite woman yanked him up before stepping out into the clearing.
“Hush, I sense the foul creature.”
She reached behind her, tugging on her belt or so Thanos thought. Little brown sparkles floated behind her in random places, coalescing to form the outline of her dimagnum slasher. She gripped the handle and swung it over her shoulder. Her left knee crooked, right leg sweeping out in an arc as she struck the end against the ground. Sparks emitted from the gigantic double-edged sword, reflecting the rays of the sun. The dimagnum slasher she fondly called her pet was at least a head taller than her with twin blades as wide as her torso. Sinews rippled over her upper arms when she dug the end further into the ground. She pressed a button along the bottom blade, jerking it sideways to direct the current that crackled along its length. The blue light ran down the blade and into the ground, shooting forward. Thanos stiffened at the agonised roar released in front of them. The sky twitched, lines forming along its surface and dissolving to reveal the hulking form of a recruiter. It had disguised itself. He held onto his weapon, moving beside his wife.
“Sly beast.” He whispered and she hummed, twisting the slasher again with a grunt. Another volt blessed the soil and as expected, a louder bellow filled the air. The first recruiter whined, swaying on its forelimbs. Its sibling appeared, staggering on its haunches towards them. It was farther away than the first one. Thanos stepped forward but Emeil stopped him with her arm.
“Take the scared one. That one owes me a tooth.” She flashed a manic grin, showcasing her missing upper canine. He opened his mouth to protest but she pulled her slasher out and slinging it onto one bony shoulder, sprinted straight at it. He had married a mad woman. The roar of his given target attracted his focus and he fingered his didosilica slasher, eying it.