Action-Infused Chasing Scenes: A Masterclass in Writing Drama

Writing an action-packed chasing scene requires a blend of heart-pounding tension, dramatic turns, and unexpected twists. This guide will take you through the ins and outs of crafting a compelling chase scene that keeps readers on the edge of their seat.

Scenario One: Foot Chasing in a Crowded Marketplace

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as Jake sprinted through the crowded marketplace. His heart pounded in his chest, and the relentless footsteps of his pursuer echoed off the stone walls, a constant reminder that he couldn't slow down. He ducked and weaved between startled vendors, grabbing a ripe apple from a stall and tossing it back to distract his chaser. The crowd thickened, but Jake's adrenaline surged as he leaped over a low cart, narrowly avoiding a cascade of fruits spilling onto the cobblestones. Just ahead, a narrow alley beckoned— a risky shortcut. With a deep breath, he veered sharply, the scent of spices and sweat filling the air. He could hear the heavy breathing of his pursuer closing in but pushed himself harder, each footfall a desperate gamble, racing toward an uncertain escape.

Scenario Two: Ski Chasing Down a Treacherous Slope

The lady had a serious glitch in her software. I tore away when she loosened her grip to probe. A Taos double-diamond hill I didn’t know which was more insane: the woman or the ski-run. The slope looked like a rumpled white bedspread studded with rocks and trees. My stomach turned to lead.

The woman screeched. I prayed. She grabbed. I plunged. My skis thudded as I hit the snow at the bottom of the cornice. I chopped hard into a turn, powder spraying as my edges bit. I punched into another curve, boot bindings groaning over the sound of slicing snow. Oh God, tell me I set those clamps stiff enough. I turned up-slope and glimpsed her racing down the hill. I ducked between two giant moguls only to run into a third the size of a VW. The shock drove my knees into my gut. Whirling my poles, I leaned into the next bounce. One—two—thrust forward. The bumps hit like blows from a prize fighter. The trees and rocks became a blur. Still up and going. I could manage the slope. Could I handle the she-devil? The word ‘obsessed’ echoed across the bowl behind me.

The sound of the voice seemed much closer than it could possibly be. I glanced back. I shouldn’t have. My left ski caught an edge. Thrown off balance, I flailed on one wobbling skid, then a snow embankment flipped me. My right ski flew off, pain shooting through my arms and legs as I tumbled. A pine halted my progress, cracking the pain through my side. The air abandoned my lungs. Wrapped around the tree, I could only lie there and cuss. Moments passed. Paralyzed by the pain, I couldn’t move.

A woman wheezed. Snow crunched nearby. I tried to stand. Agony stopped me.

I rolled onto my belly. My hand brushed one of the ski poles.

She knelt in the snow, apparently winded. The ice around her legs steamed. Ebony hair fell across her face like strokes from a painter’s brush. Her sapphire eyes glittered, and she looked too perfect. She fixed me with that hungry gaze. 'wish. Besides this, feel again. You must take the gift.' She approached. I righted myself with the pole. She lunged. I clubbed her with my fist. Even through the glove, it felt like hitting a stone. Sarina went down.

Chest tight, I staggered back in heavy ski boots. She wasn’t perfect after all. A black nodule jutted from the skin behind her ear. My throat tightened. I doubted it was a wart.

Sarina hopped up—professional boxers recovered slower. 'must take Mephists gift.' I couldn’t find another. Pass it on if you must. I will be free of his narcissistic prison. I want to feel. My ribs burned and my hands shook. 'gift.' Stay the hell away!

She leaped. Adrenaline gave me a surge of strength. My boot caught her in the midriff. I grabbed the pole. The aluminum rang as it crashed against her skull. She didn’t cry out. She started to rise. Again. Sarina kept on like a machine. Again. Blood dotted the snow. Dear Lord, please stop...

She lay still. My hands trembled. There was as much red as black in her hair now. Why wouldn’t she stop?

A shudder went through her. She gasped. I readied the pole to plunge it into her back. How could a human stay conscious after that? She flipped over, blue eyes boring into mine. Tears trickled down her face. I hesitated—stupid me. Her foot jammed into my groin. The blast of pain erased any thoughts of counterattack. I dropped. Next I caught a glimpse of Sarina with a rock in her hand…