| >> |
12/11/11(Sun)17:47 No.32230541Rising to his feet, first unsteadily, but then with growing skill and ease, Taylor took a quick survey of his numerous injuries. Turning his bloodshot eyes towards the enormous deaths-head before him, then began to limp, then walk, then run, then sprint, into its gaping maw. He had left his provisions behind. He didn't need them; an empty chaingun and a near-broken chainsaw were worthless now. His vision warped and blurred as he leaped over the enormous statue's teeth, racing down into its gullet. Imps! Twenty, no, twenty-four of them, were perched inside, waiting for him, beckoning for his approach. With magical gestures, clouds of flame began springing forth from their outstretched hands, but Taylor was too quick for them, jumping and diving and weaving through the balls of fire, like an unstoppable juggernaut. His clenched fist, made of tempered steel, weighing a thousand pounds but light as a feather, hung back as he raced to meet the first of the creatures, before whipping forward, driving right through the ugly beast's head, blood and brain exploding from the imp's face as it flew back ten feet. More fire, more flame. The imps cackled and screamed, Taylor spun like a whirling dervish, the inertia of his fists never subsiding, connecting with jaws and eye sockets and horns, cracking and ripping and shattering the demon's vile forms, the rakes of their claws mere tickles. The two dozen imps quickly were reduced to piles on the floor, and for the first time in what seemed like hours Taylor inhaled, the red haze in his vision diminishing a shade, as the amorphous forms around him congealed into definite shapes, and he saw one last imp before him, cowering behind a pillar. |
