I undid my seat belt and pulled at the door. Belatedly noticing that it was caved in. I looked out the windshield to note that steam leaked from under the hood and the sickly sweet smell of antifreeze entered the compartment. The window had shattered but a laminate film I'd applied in my preparations held it together. I reached under the seat to grab a sawed off shotgun right as I heard my door crunch. It began to bow outward with the pops of laminate and squeal of metal. With the window shattered and held together by the film, I couldn't see what it was. I got the shotgun into position right as the door ripped away. I fired one barrel after another.

The first had a dragon's breath round. That name wasn't an exaggeration. Magnesium particles jetted out of the gun in a bright burst flowing like the fire of a dragon. Since the creature was 2 feet away this was a painful proposition for him. He had time to start screaming. I noted the stench of flaming fur and fired the other barrel. Silver was shit as a bb round. But firing the flakes on to previously burned werewolf skin stopped the werewolf from healing and usually incapacitated them. The screaming turned into a choking sound. The shotgun was my emergency measure for the two types of creatures that could take out my car, vampires and werewolves. Silver was poisonous to both of them. I attempted to start the engine again but it didn't even sputter. Crap. I had to get out of the car.

I pulled my messenger bag from the passenger seat grabbing the silver dagger from it before I exited the car. I could put it in his heart, but it didn't seem right. I didn't know that he was a murderer. And the other guy had mentioned laws. Did they have a type of police? I kneeled down and placed the knife behind his ankle jerking it up and severing the achilles tendon. Werewolves healed damn fast, but silver inhibited that. Between this and the shot, he was down for the day. He choked out another scream before curling into a ball with a high pitched dog-like whine.

I ran to the trunk of my car. I reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of shotgun rounds to replace the previous two before shifting back to my back with the flamethrower on. It would have 2 or 3 more bursts. I opened the trunk and pulled my collapsible bike out. It was fitted with a power assist. I would head to the IHOP down the road. I could hole up there till daylight. The odds that they would burst in were low. If they did, brinner is always a good last meal and bacon makes everything better.

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I had just gotten the bike set up when something hammered into my hip, the sound of the shot following right after. It spun me around before I hit the ground. I felt about on my leg but there didn't seem to be any blood. It hurt like hell though. The sound of running footsteps shifted my attention from my hips to a person that was rapidly closing in. I heard the puff of something launching and felt the sting of two darts hitting my chest. I had a brief second where I knew what was going to happen before my body started convulsing in time with the pulsing of the taser. I lost track of a few seconds before powerful hands grabbed me and and started ripping through my clothes dislodging the two darts. The current stopped and I was flipped over onto my chest. My bag was torn away which was a plus. The flamethrower activated. A few people screamed and someone else swore. I pushed myself up to run and was clubbed down immediately. My hands were wrenched behind my back as if I were an unruly child. I felt the press of metallic handcuffs as I heard them click shut. I was pulled to my feet wearing only socks, shoes, and two pairs of underwear. It was then I finally had my first good look at the people fighting me

A collection of men in grey vests surrounded me while two others helped the wounded werewolf collapsed on the ground. Another two agents were actively on fire and rolling on the ground with people attempting to beat the fire out. A man ran up with a fire extinguisher from the apartment. It let out a half hearted splurt before the material dribbled out like a leaky faucet. The landlord didn't do background checks, pest control, or fix the hot water, but honestly this rose past sheer indifference, to outright spite. If I wasn’t currently handcuffed, I think I’d feel obligated to go beat him. “There's a working one in my trunk,” I offered. I wasn't dead yet so this was a plus. Then the bag went over my head.