A flash – lightning, illuminating the dreary mud-swollen street and her combatants – and then a crack of thunder splits overhead, rolling between the buildings with an echoing rumble. A heavy, wet smack of fist on skin and the expelled grunt of its receiver came after; the rain intensified, the roar of the torrent a near deafening cacophony as it struck the tin surface of the surrounding rooftops and thundered to the ground.

Two men circling each other raggedly, every step a struggle against the suctioning force of the morass of mud at their feet, breathing in heavy, ragged pants. A roar of effort and they clash again, fingers grasping for damp purchase against rain soaked skin, hair, clothing. Grim determination and angry desperation, bared teeth to bared teeth, struggling.

A hand wins free; its fingers curl and find the soft underbelly of its foe and one man staggers, a Chinese curse swallowed by the rain as mud turns traitorous and gives way beneath booted feet with slick and slippery betrayal. Then lungs screaming an airless scream as one lands atop the other, mud crawling into ears, eyes, nose; grasping, pulling down.

Crackling white and a thunderous boom felt chest deep as fingers claw and feet fight desperate to be free of the wet sucking death as hands push