They were fast, and they were quick, but they’re still dead.
I quite literally stumbled into the room. There’d been a door, although it had blended in with the wall and the floor. When I tried to pass along that side of the tunnel, the hidden door gave way, and down I went.
Had I walked down the stairs, they would have killed me.
As it was, their pistols blazed, their idle pursuits forgotten.
Splinters of wood and wall exploded above me, and as they realized the error of their aim and attempted to correct it, I managed to roll off to the left, drawing the Colts. Soon, the roar of my guns filled the room.
But these were men I faced. Soldiers who had fought and a single man was not enough to frighten them.
A bullet tore through my left arm, numbing it from the shoulder down even as I blew off the top of the man’s head. As his brains splattered across his nearest companion, another bullet creased my brow, sending a torrent of blood into my face.
Dropping my Colt to the floor, I charged the nearest soldier and drew my knife. I knocked over the room’s sole lantern and plunged us into darkness.
The fight was neither short nor was it sweet.
The three survivors called to one another in a language I did not know, but the meaning was clear. They were trying to get around me, to pin me in.
And that suited me just fine.
I sat down on the floor, my shoulder pushing the bullet out as the flesh knitted itself back together. Closing my eyes, I listened, relying on my ears, my nose, my sense of touch as the wooden floor vibrated beneath their boots.
A heartbeat later, one stepped too close, and that was the end.
I killed them all.
It was neither pretty nor was it gentle.
I butchered them.
When I found the lantern and returned illumination to the room, I discovered a small door from which came the smell of fresh air. I reloaded my Colts, holstered them, and set fire to the room.
My prey was further up.
#horror #monsters #supernatural #death