The light that engulfed James faded away letting his eyes soak in their surroundings again slowly. A deep breath was taken in and he looked down at his arms and hands. Muscles seemed to be rippling underneath them when he turned his hands front to back, a grin stretching through his lips. He had not noticed that the door to the room was opened, nor did he notice the cold steel pressed against his back.
It took the old man racking the shot gun, loading a shell, for him to freeze. That grin was gone instantly, replaced by a scowl, "Turn around pretty boy and get them hands up, do it nice and slow." Allison's fathers voice, that forced the corner of James upper lip to curl more. Taking his lack of response as stalling the barrel was jammed into his back again, trying to push him forward but having no luck, James toes pressing down to offset the force. "I said turn around."
"Alright alright." Not wanting to gamble on the amount of damage a shotgun could do to him he raised his hands up and slowly turned around, staring the old man down. "What was with that bright light huh? Why the hell you got all them muscles now too? You was scrawny an hour ago." James glanced to both his arms, then down to his feet before looking back up. His lips parted like he was going to answer only for his body drop down instantly. Feet digging into the wood hard enough to kick up some splinters shooting forwards under the old mans weapon. His shoulder collided with the beer gut in front of him, arms slipping around to his back. The momentum carried both him and the old man out of the door into the wall of the hallway knocking the air out of the old mans lungs and then both of them to the floor.
Unfortunately for James, this was far from the first conflict Alison's father had been in. No sooner than he moved to rise up to strike, he found the butt of the shot gun slamming into the side of his chin rocking his head sideways and slinging his brain around its case.
You have taken 15 [Blunt] damage and been [Dazed] for 2 Seconds
His body followed his head, tumbling side ways letting the shotgun wielding lunatic scramble on top. All he could see was a white beard and the length of the shotgun aiming for his neck, hands holding it back. Bulk and leverage was used to keep it there trying his best to reach and crush James windpipe. "You don' fucked up now, she wont save you from me boy." Beyond enraged, spittle covered both his own and James face. The old mans beard had shifted just enough that James could see his skin turning red from exertion and adrenaline, a few veins even beginning to throbbing on his forehead.
A scream caught them both off-guard, causing their heads to jerk towards the stairs and the direction of the sound. The only other person in the house was Alison. Shit. No time. The force in his arms amplified and he sent the old man tumbling off him back into the room. He was on his feet a moment later then clearing the stairs with a jump moments after. He stumbled a little from the landing but managed to right himself as he came face to face with the open front door. Two men were standing over Alison in a heap on the porch. "Hu hu hu, dumb bitch shoulda' kept her mouf shut." Looking closer he could see her forehead was bleeding, then back up at the two men his lips curled up teeth shown.
James sprinting their way caused them to turn towards the door, noticing him too late. The one on the left had been speared hard enough at the waist to send them both through one of the porch supports and out onto the lawn. Keeping his bearings this time he was able to get his knees up on the still shocked mans shoulders pinning him to the dirt, his arm raised up, hand wrapped around what looked like a rod wrapped in leather. James pulled his hand down just a little revealing a six inch blade attached to the rod from seemingly nowhere. Immediately the man below him started struggling, his voice stammering as he spoke "Now w-wait ju-just a second here we do--"
A sound like a shoe hitting mud mixed faintly with metal scraping porcelain was the reply. James had just slammed his blade into the mans jabbering mouth. Drawing it back produced a small spurt of blood followed by a gurgling, choking scream, as if trying to beg for mercy. The knife fell again in his cheek gouging some of it out and revealing his gums. A third hit just below the eye socket forcing the eyeball up and out of its home. He was about to pull the knife free for a fourth when there was a new sound and a lot of pain from his head. Wood meeting something solid with an undertone of a ripe melon being tested. The other brother had recovered finally and hit James full force in the side of the skull with a wooden bat.
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Critical Hit! You have taken 35 [Blunt] damage and been [Dazed] for 10 Seconds
James rolled a few feet away holding his head causing a pause in the mayhem. The still living brother able to see the mess James had left before letting out incomprehensible screech. The screech turned to yelling as he moved to approach James, "JOE! YOU KILLED JOE! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Two footsteps carried the man close to James, his bat pulled up into the air, giving James, despite his haze, just enough time to raise his arms up in an x to try and absorb the blow. The hit didn't come. What the brother had not counted on was the grizzled mad man finishing his check up of his daughter. There was suddenly a large amount of noise sending James ears ringing as well as a splatter of something hot, wet, and solid in places coating his arms, chest, and head.
Trying to uncurl got him a kick to his ribs rolling him to his side, his hearing slowly returning. "GET UP!" James's head pulled in the direction of the voice, watching as another shell was racked. Eyes focused up at the old man seeing he looked even crazier than before. His once dingy white beard was covered in a smattering of bone, blood, brain, and flesh. The hesitation James showed was not looked upon fondly getting him a swift boot to the face knocking him back into the ground again.
You have taken 5 [Blunt] damage
You have learned the Skill [Pain Resistance]
"Not gonna tell you again." James unable to do anything else slowly got to his feet, small drops of blood running from his nose. His stance was a little wobbly from being hit in the head so many times in short succession. "This is all your fucking fault! If we didn't have to deal with your ass we'd been gone already. Weren't for my daughter and the fact you killed one of those pieces of shit I'd blow your brains all over my front yard. Get the fuck off my property." James could only gnash his teeth and speak up, "What about my stuff?" The old man having learned his lesson kept his distance but still spit towards James feet when the question was asked. "You mean that ratty shirt and jeans? What bout it?"
"The wallet and shoes. I don't care about the rest." The old mans finger slipped down to the trigger, hanging there for a moment before moving back up to the side of the finger guard, letting him wave the shotgun off in the direction of the woods. "Take twenty steps back and sit your ass down, I'll get Ally in and then throw you your shit so you can get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."
James did as asked, the old man slowly backing away to the porch shotgun trained on him the entire time. Leaning down he used one arm to gently lift up her back, careful of her neck. The shotgun was set down in her lap as the other arm was used to go under her legs. James could only watch as he disappeared, his face and head throbbing with a dull ache now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
When the old man reappeared James was picking pieces of flesh and bone from his clothes, the sound of the old mans voice bringing him out of his task. "Hey! Pick up your shit and get." A torn up pair of jeans and sneakers was tossed into the yard a little ways from James. Rather than argue he got up and walked over to his shoes. They were still tied letting him slip them on with a bit of wiggling, the pants, however, were picked up, checked for his wallet which was taken out and stored. The pants were summarily tossed back to the ground.
James was watched as he did all of this, shotgun not aimed at him but held ready. It wasn't until he turned and headed towards the brother he had put down that the old man spoke up again, cutting him off before he could get close "I didn't say you could have the knife, get the fuck out of here. Driveway leads to the road, you can figure the rest out pretty boy." James stopped again, visibly trembling, the old man assumed it was from fear, but the look on James's face was anything but fear. Thankfully James was turned away making it impossible to see his face clearly.
Could I reach? One shot.. maybe two.. this body is a lot sturdier.. no no. Stop. Even if he is an asshole, he and his daughter helped you. A forced gust of breath, he glared back at the old man before heading for the driveway. It was shitty knife anyways I'll just find something better.. Reasoning with himself, poorly, he walked down the gravel path heading for the main road, knowing that with no supplies he'd have to head into town.
Just as he touched asphalt his ears perked up, distant howling causing his head to turn in the direction the noise had come from. "Wolves? There haven't been wolves aro... shit. The notice." Remembering where the Worg was supposed to come from had James sprinting down the road in the direction of civilization, he lost his knife, and he'd be damned if he was going to try and fight a pack of wolves barehanded.