Edith stares down the long hallway, his next move still being calculated.

How many are there?

I can't shoot him, it'll alert the others.

What else can I kill him with?

Edith, still ponderous, begins fast walking towards the flamboyant cowboy shaking his hands wildly as he tries to think up a quick way to murder his foe who just now notices his approach.

"Hey, who the fuck are you?" Pink Hat shouts.

"Shhhhh!" Edith violently whispers back in his best librarian impression. "Be fucking quiet!"

Edith approaches the man, who's now upright and beginning to pull his sidearm. He grabs the man's arm like turkey leg at the faire and takes a ferocious bite out of it. The man screams in agony, blood spritzing out in a fine mist as he drops his gun. Edith grabs the man firmly by the back of the neck with his left arm.

"I said!" He whispers angrily, then raises his right fist, aiming it at the man's face.

"Be fucking quiet."

Edith with incredible effort jams his fist all the way down the man's gullet. The flamboyant man's screams when muffled sound a bit like a manatee trying to buttfuck a chimp, but not in a good way. He seems to be playing the ‘I wonder if I can pull his heart through his throat’ game. A game of which his odds seem pretty good at winning. The man is no longer squirming, his eyes bulging, face twisted and the color that of an eggplant. Edith wiggles his arm from the man's throat and tries to shake off the throat goo, of which is a majority bile that causes a stinging sensation in his eyes. Through his watery eyes he sees the pink hat seated neatly on the stool, he must have taken it off as he stood up.

"Seems like a waste." Edith says as he picks up the hat and weighs it as if the weight of the hat will be the deciding factor.

He removes Willy's hat and tosses it like a frisbee down the empty hall, then dons the cowboy hat. It fits like it was molded for his head. Not too loose, and tight enough so it doesn't move when he shakes his head about. He squats back down to acquire the deceased's sidearm and raises it towards the door in unison to his other stolen pistol as if imitating a scene from die hard. Edith stares at the door. The current song is nearing its end, just a melodic tempo slowly fading out. Edith's pores are widening, beads of sweat are forming on his neck, nose and forehead.

Will this shit ever end?

Edith tosses the guns to the ground and whips out the iPod. He scrolls through the endless list of names until one catches his eye… KISS. He presses the shuffle button and his ears hop aboard a welcome wagon of pure bliss. He's ready. He reaches down to pick up his guns, but just as he does the door slams open and hits him in the top of his head, toppling him. A man bursts out through the door. Edith’s first thought is the man is far too attractive. The man peers to his left and notices his coworker’s remains.

”What the fuck!" the man belts.

Edith's face is streaming a healthy flow of blood from the door's impact. The tingling in his gonads returns in full force. He dives for the guns, but receives a powerful sweeping kick to the face from his foe knocking him back. Edith smears the stream of blood from his wound encompassing his entire face and stands back to his feet.

"Let's go handsome,” Edith challenges.

The man gets in stance, ready to get revenge for his fallen adversary.

SQUISH!

The man's genitals are now nestled firmly within his chin from Edith's unexpected kick. He falls to the ground, unable to breathe. Edith lets out a giddy giggle and picks up his firearms.

"Guys help!" the handsome man groans.

Edith then shoots the man in the genitals twice.

"Guys help!" Edith shouts mockingly.

He hears stomping on the other side of the door and unloads about 8 rounds through it. A quiet thud from beyond the door echoes throughout the hall. The handsome man clutches his now mangled genitalia in his hands and cries.

"Some backup you have there," Edith states jokingly.

He aims his gun at the handsome man, but before he can fire the door flies off its hinges hurling straight at Edith. Edith is now stuck under the door, being held down with immense pressure.

Why is the fucking thing so heavy?

Edith, pinned to the floor shoves at the door, but it won't budge. A deep agonizing pain webs out from his ribcage in agonizing waves to the rest of his body. It happens again. And again. There's someone on top of the door and they are stabbing him directly in the side from the cover of the door. Tears of anger and pain roll down Edith's cheeks as he lets out a violent scream. Edith is no amateur when it comes to pain, but of the many ways to go this was his least favorite so far. After the 4th stab he was starting to numb up, he simply relaxed to the pressure of the door and prayed it would end quickly. Maybe next time he would make an actual plan.

The hall lights up a magnificent white and ear shattering rip fills the hallway. Once.. Twice.. Edith could feel the power of the 8 gauge shotgun that was being used to mangle his foes. A soft thud atop the door indicating his attacker’s demise assured Edith there was now a 3rd force in this battle. As the door was lifted from him every cell in his body filled with oxygen, a headrush like no other.

“Look who decided to show up," Edith groans in pain and coughs up a bit of blood.

Willy stands in the hallway holding a shotgun at his hip looking like an absolute unit.

"Not fast enough, looks like," he states matter of factly.

"I'll be fine," says Edith, applying pressure to his punctured side.

"Any more in there?" asks Willy.

"Fuck if I know."

Two enormous shotgun shells roll across the floor still smoking, released from Willy's ancient double barrel shotgun. Edith picks up only one gun due to his left hand being fastened to his flowing ribcage.

"Let's get this shit over with, I've only got 10..," Edith's finger sinks into his wound deeply making him further tear up.

"Make that 5 minutes."

Willy chambers two more of the enormous slugs into his gun and closes it shut.

"So let's go,” he replies.

Footsteps loudly sneak about the room, people had been in there listening to the whole bloody battle.

"Takes a special kind of pussy to just sit and hide while someone makes a welcome mat out of your friends," Edith shouts cooly as he empties a round into the mutilated and once handsome man's brain.

Edith struggles to lift the cockless corpse to his feet to use as a makeshift riot shield, Willy does his best to help. Edith feels an increasing heaviness to his eyelids and can feel every wasted moment slipping away.

"Here the fuck I come!" He screams as he flies into the room, protecting as much of his own mangled flesh behind that of his shield's. The room is enormous. It's the deluxe condo, but it looks to be struggling to fit within the dimensions of the building. A table is toppled over directly to the right of Edith as he walks in, behind it is an UZI wielding native american man wearing a tuxedo. On his left, two men peek over the couch, one holding an UZI and the other a Glock.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The man behind the table fires first, the bullets pierce the body armor deeply, every bullet creating a mini smoke bomb further coating Edith in mutilated flesh. Edith charges the table and tosses the limp corpse atop his attacker.

"Gross what the fuck!" the native american man retches.

Edith jumps over the table and lands on the corpse which is atop the native american man. He does a stylish flip with the gun which lands with the barrel as a grip and he begins whacking the man repeatedly in the forehead with the handle of the gun until a mighty dent is made.

Bullets begin flying through the table from the couch dwellers, Edith gets as low as possible to avoid taking any further damage. The bullets rip through the table, the holes getting wider and wider, they’ll be able to see him soon, or they will just get lucky and hit him. The gunfire ceases, they need to reload. Edith peeks his head over the table to see if he has a shot. They are both standing up straight and reloading their weapons, one has a very protruding jaw, the other seemingly has no jaw at all.

"Willy now!" Edith shouts.

Edith pops up and flips the bird at the two men, who just now finished reloading. They both make the same face, like an amalgamation of the one you make when someone kicks your dog and when a friend tells you a bad joke, one so bad that it forever taints your opinion of them. Edith dramatically spreads his arms in an angelic manner indicating a welcoming of their gunfire. The men take aim.

Both men's heads are immediately cut in half by a single slug followed by an invigorating roar from Willy's shotgun. The men are stay upright, their bodies not aware they're dead yet.

"Nice shot," Edith states as he stumbles over and uses the table to keep himself upright.

"Alright, let's find some drugs and get the fuck out of here.".

"I don't get you man, you're standing there about to die. And what, for a couple rocks, some smack?"

Willy shakes his head.

"What I don't get is why you decided to help me. Isn't all this illegal?" Edith says as he waves about the gore scattered living room.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you man." Will says solemnly.

“You'd be surprised."

Edith walks towards the kitchen to begin his search for anything he can smoke, snort or shoot.

DING!

The coffee table in the middle of the room begins to split in half and separate along with a large square of the floor. It's a secret elevator.

"Hide!" Willy shouts.

Edith slumps behind the kitchen counter and Willy runs out of the room to hide in the hallway. An elevator shaft gently eases its way into the center of the room. As the doors ease open three men step out, followed by another absurdly loud ding from the elevator. The man in the front is rocking a pinstripe suit and the face wrinkles of a man twice his age. He looks like someone straight out of a Dick Tracy comic. The other two men are Samurai in full armor. Edith thinks they're twins, but he's a little racist even if unintentionally.

I don't have time for this shit!

Edith is fuming, he just wanted some drugs but now he has to kill three more men. At this rate if he even finds any he won't have time to use them.

“You's guys who did this betta pop up right fuckin’ now! I ain't got time for no fuckin' games," the Pinstripe Man says in a thick Brooklyn accent.

The Pinstripe Man pauses for a moment, then motions for his men to search the area. The samurai make a menacing break from their boss each heading to separate sides of the room. As Edith sits on the cold tile he can feel his breaths getting lighter. He has to make a move now. One of the samurai is just on the other side of the counter now. Edith tries to get to his feet but gravity and blood loss foil his attempts. He turns his body towards the counter and grasps it to pull himself up, but as soon as his hand touches the countertop the scent of sharpened steel brushes across his nose and his hand is gone in an instant. The samurai took it off in one swift motion. Edith brings the nub to his face. It's a completely straight cut through the bone, no blood, just pink flesh with a cream filled center. No pain, just pure bewilderment.

Then it hit, the 5 seconds in which there was no pain all collided at once, the blood begins to pour out and what was once pink is now coated in a dark red. Edith lets out an earth rattling scream.

"You… little… Fucking squinty bitch!" Edith shouts as he pulls his gun on the Samurai.

Edith was never too good with guns, he preferred to get up close and personal and kill with his hands. Unfortunately that's not an option on this occasion. Edith blasts the samurai once in the kneecap, bits of cartilage fly out the back and paint the wall behind him. Willy then flies in the room and unloads a slug into the other samurai blasting an enormous crater in his gut and launching him across the room. The Pinstripe man leaps behind the couch to avoid any further fire. Edith's opponent begins losing his footing and raises his sword to strike on his way down. Edith slides towards the counter and fills him with five more rounds further painting the wall with his insides. The samurai lands to Edith's left side motionless. Edith manages to get to his feet and drops his smoking handgun atop the man it had just been used to mangle, then reaches down to pick up the beautifully etched katana still

coated in his own fluids.

"You guys don't know who the fuck you're messin with!" shouts the pinstripe man from behind the couch.

"Yeah, yeah... You're a fuckin' tough guy. I'm Dallas PD mother fucker," retorts Willy with a confident swagger.

The Pinstripe man gets to his feet.

"Oh yeah, well I'm Hell PD... Mother fucker," he replies.

The man's wrinkly skin begins to crack and a pair of dark scorched horns extend from his forehead. They don't belong to that of any specific animal, they don't even have a consistent shape other than one you would define as pointy. Willy drops his gun to his feet.

"What the fuck are you?"

"Demon," replies the demon with a confident smile as he raises a gold plated Colt 1911, taking aim at Willy who stands frozen.

The demon begins to squeeze down on the trigger. Edith acts fast, he doesn't even remember starting to run, but he's already within striking range of the demon. He impales the demon through the stomach, the sword makes its way through him like butter. With one hand and one nub Edith lugs him to the far end of the room, holding on with every ounce of life left in him. They reach the window and Edith, using the demon's body as a ram smashes them through it. Shattered glass tears apart Edith’s corneas, but he knows it won't matter in a second or two, so he just enjoys the ride down.