Wolf Three had placed herself between the route to the dining hall and the daemon. Taking a step back as she hit the mag release of her Minebea Machine Pistol.
“Reloading!” She yelled as she let the mag drop and slot in a new one. Her squad mates took their cue to unload into the daemon’s legs.
This tempo kept up as they held off the daemon. Its weakened state kept it so it was actually staggering from their fire; especially fire from four different directions as they surrounded it well out of its reach. The Captain had trained them well, even with the demoralization of having him injured and Six killed in action, they were able to keep their composure. The Kid--no--The Hunter; showed them it could be hurt. That Six could be avenged.
Seven called for his reload and Three took her aim; letting off a long burst into the daemon’s head to stagger it back. The daemon couldn’t seem to decide who it wanted to go for first. Their reports stated that injured daemons could enter a sort of feeding frenzy that was easily overloaded when given too many options. Personally, she liked to think it was afraid. Though, much like their skirmish with it in the dining hall; it all went south.
One of the daemon’s arms whipped back and wrapped around a marble bust next to a stair landing. It flung it at Seven with an unearthly screech, catching him on the helmet and sending the man flying down the other hallway in a crumpled heap.
“Seven!” Five gave a panicked yell and moved to cover him as she was closest to him. Imposing herself between Seven’s fallen form and the beast.
The daemon brought its arm back around and caught her with a backhanded whip, sending her flying and into the stairs with a strangled cry and her head ending up in an unnatural angle. Three had to bite her tongue from crying out.
Two, always the hot head of the group, yelled and screamed as he dumped his mag into it. Deftly reloading in record time for a second burst. The daemon didn’t so much give him a look as it whipped an arm around his legs and tossed him up into the second floor’s railing in a heap. Two didn’t have time to scream. The impact either killed him or knocked him out instantaneously.
Three found herself suddenly alone. She could hear her Captain yell into the line.
“Two! Seven! Five! Report! Get out of there!” Three couldn’t bring herself to reply, her voice died and the primal fear of death was taking hold of her. Locking her in place as the daemon turned its gaze at her and brought its arm back prepared to lash out. She heard rumors that dying to daemons meant the death of the soul as well, but she still wondered if she’d get to see Six again on the other side, she hoped so at least.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
She could only watch in slow motion as the arm began its arc toward her. The thickest part of the arm aimed squarely at her head. It’d either cave her helmet in or break her neck. She didn’t think to close her eyes as it hit its terminal velocity. The moment was broken as she was suddenly jerked to the side by an unknown grip.
“Watch out!” The Hunter yelled, pulling her out of the way. The daemon’s arm crashed into the floor where she’d been standing, shattering the tile. Three managed to turn her head slightly to get a look at the Hunter. She’d only known him for the better part of an hour, two at most. He had struck her like a stupid kid getting himself in way over his head with an attitude similar to Two’s. Though at that moment, for a brief bit as he pulled her aside she could swear she was seeing anything but a high schooler. The Hunter had a deathly serious expression as he raised his handgun and pulled the trigger.
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The effect of the Gold Labels was instantaneous; the daemon’s shoulder was completely blown through, and the arm it had tried to strike the ADOFT officer severed and left twitching before dissipating in a thick black mist.
Tear into it, Summoner! Show this beast what it gets for crossing you! A chorus of voices rose from within as Solomon pushed the ADOFT officer behind him to take a two-handed grip on his Hi-Power; lining up another shot on the still-staggering daemon and tearing another chunk out of its torso.
His HCOMP’s visor flashed as the device’s computer tried to pinpoint the daemon’s Magnetite core. Hit that and the daemon had nothing to physically form around. He put another round into the daemon’s leg and blew it clean off with an explosive flash.
The daemon screeched as it tried to regenerate its lost body mass, but as soon as it even started to try and regrow the limb; Solomon blew the area back open with another shot. This was going to be an expensive hunt but it was so, so cathartic.
A trio of shots rang out as he blew open the daemon’s upper chest, “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance! Now eat shit and die!” Solomon spat and took aim at the head, its eye transfixed on him in something that would’ve likely registered as hate if he thought about it…not that it stayed there for long, as it was evaporated by another shot.
He was halfway through his mag when he saw a glimpse of red. The core, a dull red crystalline object that all daemons form around when they manifest into their world. A daemon needed Magnetite to stay manifested, and thus needed to feed either on residual soul energy or straight from the source.
It’s drained but looks like there’s plenty of Magnetite left…tempting…tempting. He heard Stolas hoot in his head as he lined up his next shot.
Stolas was right, it was tempting. He needed Magnetite himself if he wanted to conjure any of his demons, and the process drained him. But there was still at least one eyewitness, and advertising he was a demon summoner would be bad PR and he’d stick out enough as is in this country. He’d survive without a top-up for now.
He didn’t leave it to chance. He was confident in his aim, the thing was practically a stone’s throw from him, but this thing had been surprisingly tanky up until this point despite being so slender for a level six, and frankly, he was tired of watching other people die in front of him.
Three rounds rapid; that's what it took to completely evaporate the upper body of the daemon and, by collateral, the core. The daemon’s body writhed in a final death throe as its body lost cohesion and dissipated into a thick mist. Solomon sighed, his HCOMP’s visor giving a flash in his eye.
Level Six Daemon status: Eliminated. Sole contributor- Corporal Solomon. Funds transferred.
Solomon smirked as he saw the read-up. Doing a rude gesture at the dissipating body of the daemon.
“That's how we fuckin’ do it back at Nevada!” He yelled with a cocky flourish, though it died soon as the body disappeared completely and all that was left in the foyer was him, a very scared woman, and three questionably alive people. He holstered his gun and clicked the communication line.
“Hey Old-timer… You’re gonna wanna get a medivac here, it’s bad.”