Unbalanced

Stepping quickly after the man, you are surprised when he whirls gracefully on one heel, bringing his axe across your neck like an artist might sling paint.

With a lack of paint, your blood spraying against the walls makes for an acceptable attempt.

Roughly ten seconds later, your eyes snap open.

Laying sideways in the hallway, you barely make out the figure of the warrior growing more distant, bellowing some challenge to the darkness streaming in through the cracked walls. You wearily try to get to your feet, but something about the attack seems to have paralyzed your limbs.

Then, as your vision grows less bleary, you see your limbs attached to your body, which is itself facing the wrong direction from your field of view.