“Enemies incoming~!” An incredibly loud woman’s voice screamed from the balcony of the house to the left. In the distance, Michael could see a green Humvee with a minigun mounted on the back, driving down the only road that led towards the cul-de-sac from the north.

It was incredibly far away, but he could still make out the appearance of a pink-skinned pig-woman in the driver’s seat. There was a skinny man with a literal duck-bill on his face, who was manning the minigun and firing it at a few three-meter tall hogs that were chasing after them. There was also a ‘normal’ human, with bright-blue skin, who was leaning out of the passenger-side window and firing a light machine-gun at the monsters.

However, to the northeast of that, there was a small formation of three black helicopters: One was a pure attack chopper, but the other two were personnel transports. Rather than flag symbols, there were actually skulls and crossbones painted on the noses of the vehicles. Michael muttered “Dafuck are they, pirates?”

A moment later, a man in the house to his right yelled “Bandits en hogs~! Get da rocket-launchers out! Danny, man da muh-fuckin Flakker! Trixie, get out da fiddy-cal en snipe dem sons uh bitches!”

“Holy shitballs, no wonder these guys are still alive, hehehe~…” As Michael casually climbed out the window and landed on the uncut green grass, he saw that on the neighbor’s balcony was a huge four-barreled anti-air machine-gun. He also noticed that there were thick steel plates and an extraordinary amount of fortification done to each of the buildings.

The wooden fence around Linda’s yard was at least three meters high and had tons of bulletholes, broken boards and scorch marks. However, there were spots that seemed to be intentionally opened up, so that people could shoot out into the cornfield easily.

He saw a fairly tall and muscular woman standing on the roof of the western neighbor’s house, holding a rocket-propelled grenade-launcher with both hands. She knelt down and started aiming towards the incoming helicopters in the distance.

There was a loud ‘bang’ noise that came from behind him, and he noticed that ‘Trixie’ was apparently a relatively ‘normal’ looking little girl: her skin was dark-brown, hair was short and black, while her eyes were silver. The fifty-caliber sniper rifle was mounted on the windowsill above the guest room he was staying in.

It took a few seconds for the bullet to actually reach the target, but when it hit the reinforced glass windshield of the left-most heavy transport, there was a small explosion. That incendiary bullet managed to pierce through and decapitate the pilot, causing the helicopter to start spinning in circles momentarily. Unfortunately, someone else was able to take control and land ‘safely’ in the cornfield.

Michael complimented “Wow, nice shot kid!” However, she just coldly glared at him for a moment, before aiming her obnoxiously large sniper-rifle towards the distant western road. The Nephilim wasn’t able to see it, but behind the stampede of mutated giant pigs, there was a row of armored personnel carriers and tanks; all of which were painted black, sporting a white skull and crossbones symbol.

Trixie whispered into the small microphone on her left cheek, “Four APCs and three IFVs incoming from the northwest… Authorizing the use of the M1A1 and… ‘Goliath’.” After that, she fired off a few rounds, which easily killed three colossal boars.

The steel-plated back door to the house suddenly opened, and Linda ran outside, shouting “Mike, what’re ya doin out here?! Get back inside!” She hurriedly grabbed him by the arm and attempted to pull his relatively huge body, but was obviously unsuccessful.

He snickered, following her lead and walking inside on his own; then she closed and locked the door behind them. That goat-girl complained “Ya can’t jus go outside durin a raid! Yer lucky Trixie did-un jus shoot ya or tell somebody else to! Yer ‘my’ responsibility! I’ll probly get punished fer this!”

“I’d be pretty pissed if she really did that, ya know? Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone ‘punish’ you for something I did. Anyway, I wanna go watch the battle… Maybe I’ll even get the chance to shoot some people, and-or mutated animals, hehe~.” Michael completely disregarded her pleading and warnings, heading towards the nearest staircase and going upstairs.

When he reached the top of the steps, there was a huge middle-aged pigman, holding a shotgun, who literally ‘oinked’ in surprise. Linda quickly explained “Daddy, don’t freak out, kay? Mike jus wants ta umm, see ‘my’ room…”

“Fine, jus, hurry an dun let you know who fine out…” Surprisingly, the bald, pot-bellied man didn’t put up a fight and just let his daughter do as she wished.

The two of them took a right and went into the large room at the end of the hall; there were thick, bulletproof glass windows at the front, back and side walls, but it was possible to see ‘everything’. Michael looked outside and said “You guys have a goddamn big-ass tank… And what the hell is that thing, a tortoise with a giant mortar on its back?”

Linda giggled, “Yeah, he was ma pet before, ya know… Now he’s still perty tame, jus eats loads uh corn. Geeze, it muss be bad fer Trixie ta bring out Goliath.”

“Who is that little girl anyway? Also, why the fuck are there choppers and tanks suddenly coming to wipe this place out? You said that they’re bandits, but the only way they’d be able to overtake you guys, is by literally bombing the place or sacrificing tons of people… I can’t understand why they would even do that.” He could barely hear himself speak, over the sound of that flakk-gun, the fifty-caliber sniper rifle, and there were even a few RPGs being fired. It didn’t take long for the two remaining helicopters to be shot down, but the cornfield didn’t seem to be flammable at all.

It wasn’t until then that he looked around and noticed that all around the pink room, the walls were practically covered with firearms. There were assault and sniper rifles, shotguns, pistols, LMGs, SMGs, and even a few grenade launchers. She also had plenty of ammunition, to the point where it would be impressive if she could even use it all.

She told him “I actually used ta be one uh dem anti-gun folks a few months ago… Daddy was always a firm believer in the second-amendment, but even he only had a few hunt-in rifles. We used ta think my lil sis, Trixie, was a bit paranoid; specially when she started collect-in all kinds uh dangerous weapons. I dun know if ya remember em, but she started a weird ‘survivalist’ club with Luke, Phil, an some other kids we went ta high school with… This whole neighborhood was bought with money she got from those boys. Well, all these houses are jus a front fer the secret underground bunker. Ah, it ain’t really a ‘secret’ anymore, en thas why those bastards keep comin after us!”

Michael sighed dramatically, complaining “I feel like it probably wasn’t a ‘coincidence’ that I ended up here…” A black M4 carbine appeared in his hands out of thin air, and Linda unconsciously yelped from shock. He casually placed it onto an empty desk, muttering “I don’t really have much else on or ‘in’ me, so I figured a few guns and stuff might be able to compensate for all you’ve done for me over the past month…”

After that, a pistol appeared in his hand, which he placed next to the assault rifle. She grumbled “I didn’t help ya expectin somethin in return… Hell, wasn’t sure you’d even really survive! Sides, look around ya! Does it look like I need yer guns?!”

He smirked, “Regardless of whether ‘you’ need them, I’m sure that they’ll be useful eventually. Who knows, you might be able to trade them for something you really want or need later on. Also, ‘this’ is my spare cellphone, which I found on a weird underwater spaceship thingy… Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a spaceship exactly~, but it looked like a flying saucer and it was unreasonably large. Anyway, it’s pretty sweet; way better than the shitty phone I used to have. Ah, these are belts that don’t really fit me, and a holster, plus some grenades?”

“Where in tarnation are ya pullin them things outta?!” Linda still didn’t seem to understand the ‘trick’ to his magic.

The Nephilim snickered, shrugged and replied “Meh~, who knows? It’s kinda just like, being constipated? Or maybe more like writer’s block… I can just feel a ton of metaphysical and metaphorical shit inside of me? The problem is that, I only know what a few of the things are and I’m afraid to just start throwing random stuff out of my weird extra-dimensional storage space…”

She asked “Dun-cha mean ‘inter’ dimensional?” while staring at him as if he were a fool.

Yet, he immediately retorted “Dafuck, that’s so cliche and overused… I mean, whether it’s inter or extra, it’s all just a bunch of made-up nonsense, right? For all we know, I might just be creating things out of rainbow-unicorn farts or baby fairy tears?! Goddamn it, ugh, I feel like I’m gonna throw up!”

Linda frowned, yelling “What’re ya freakin out fer?! Yuck! Don’t barf in my room!” Without her needing to drag him out, Michael quickly sprinted to the door, then went down the hall and entered the bathroom.

It was a decent sized space, with a large tub, the standard sink, mirror, cabinets and of course, a porcelain toilet. However, he only made it to the bathtub, before he turned and felt as if his throat had been totally torn apart.