As Butter’s forehead smacked against the table, not only Jessie, but at least six other people in the room swiftly aimed their weapons at the unarmed Nephilim. A huge seven-foot tall, extremely overweight man, wearing jean-suspenders and a blood-stained white tank-top came out from the hallway; he was holding a huge fifty-caliber light machine-gun with both hands, pointing it towards Michael and his friend.
However, even with everything that was happening, he just casually kept sipping his ‘roofied’ iced-tea. The rohypnol obviously wouldn’t be able to affect him at all, but it did give the beverage a ‘bad’ taste, which caused him to cringe.
After drinking at least a few ounces, he put the glass down and shook his head in disappointment. He smirked, “Jessie, what are we worth anyway? I know that money is kinda useless for the most part, so what sort of compensation could possibly make you all willing to risk your lives like this?”
Although he seemed relatively calm, in his mind, Michael was yelling “Fucking shitballs! I really should’ve learned some goddamn magic! Sarah, Talia, JJ, Ally, is anybody awake?! Ugh, of course not! Welp, time to get shot a bunch of times!”
Jessie immediately replied “Food, guns, bullets, drugs, cars, meds, the list never ends… The two of ya ain’t worth shit to ‘us’, but them folks down the road been collectin ya’ll, like yer tradin-cards. I honestly don’t give a damn what they want with ya, or what they’ll do to ya, cause it don’t matter none ta us. Jus give up en let us restrain ya; don’t make this difficult… We don’t need ya alive, but they pay better if yer still kickin!”
He snickered, muttering “I guess it’s come to this then, huh? Fine, why don’t I show you a magic trick?” The hood and cape suddenly transformed into a black mist and was sucked into the back of his neck; then a pitch-black stirring spoon appeared in his right hand.
Michael turned around and glanced at everyone who was aiming their weapons at him, one at a time. His left hand casually tapped on Butter’s shoulder, as he yelled “Abra-ka-fucking-dabra!” and made the unconscious man vanish.
At that sudden display, the woman with a crossbow gasped and accidentally pulled the trigger. The bolt had a razor-sharp broadhead arrow-point, which easily plunged straight through the Nephilim’s ‘magical’ jeans.
A ‘familiar’ and horrible, agonizing pain shot through his body as he screamed “Goddamn cuntmonkey-salad! You bitch, you actually shot me in the fucking dick! Gah~, ew~, blood and piss are spraying everywhere! Ugh~, I think my tailbone is even broken!”
He couldn’t help but fall down onto his knees, as copious amounts of acidic juices flooded the ground. The raunchy wooden floorboards seemed like they hadn’t been cleaned in a while before that; however, once his bodily fluids came in contact with the filth, it was dissolved into pure mana and released into the air.
Even though he really didn’t want to, Michael still grabbed the aluminum arrow and quickly yanked it out of his groin. Then he somehow struggled to stand, while still holding that pitch-black stirring spoon in his right hand.
“To be completely honest… I could understand ‘killing’, but the fact that you’re basically trading people like slaves, heh-heh~… Yeah, I’ve got some problems with that. I mean, it ain’t like I was ever in chains, at least not that I can remember… but I’ve always just felt that, ‘freedom’ is the most important thing in life. Let’s just say that it’s pretty much my ‘faith’… Sure, I also believe in all kinds of weird shit that probably isn’t real, but whatever; the one thing that I think ‘most’ people would agree with, is that slavery is evil. Hahaha~, I’m feelin so weird right now… Like my motherfucking heart is about ta explode and my blood’s literally boiling! Maybe I have a few ‘anger’ issues, but goddamn it, can ya really blame me?! Hahahahahaha~!” After laughing hysterically, he took in a deep breath of the mana-rich air, which was causing everyone else to become nauseous or dizzy.
Michael abruptly sprinted forward, reaching the crossbow-wielding woman within what ‘seemed’ like an instant and smashing the spoon down onto the top of her brown baseball-cap. The obsidian kitchen utensil passed straight through her head, neck, chest and finally exited from her groin. Then her two halves exploded to his left and right, creating a putrid black mist, which shrouded his entire body.
‘Pops’ was the first to react, and he started firing that fifty-caliber machine-gun towards the Nephilim’s slightly visible back. Several of the bullets did manage to pass through his chest and waist, dealing a massive amount of damage; yet, the majority of the rounds were devastating the stage and everyone who was in Michael’s vicinity.
It was hard to tell whether the insane man was roaring from pleasure or pain, but he continued to swiftly sprint back towards the bar. Diving over the counter, he took a shotgun blast to the left shoulder, losing a chunk of flesh and bone, but still managed to decapitate ‘Jessie’ with the edge of that strange ‘spoon’.
Then he was hit by a fifty-caliber bullet, which passed straight through one temple and out the other. His optic nerves were severed, but he could easily ‘hear’ and ‘feel’ where that giant man was standing and shooting from.
The spoon turned into a single chopstick, that Michael threw like a dart, while crawling up from the ground. Rivers of blood were spraying from all over the Nephilim’s body and ‘consuming’ the headless, beautiful woman by his feet.
That magical ‘weapon’ almost instantly embedded itself into the giant man’s forehead; then Pops’ blubbery figure began rapidly dissolving into a brown and black mush. Even the bones slowly liquefied, as the Legendary Soulbound item, transformed into a black smoke and returned to the Nephilim’s right palm.
Breathing out a sigh, along with some bloody mist, Michael hobbled back over to one of the only intact stools and sat down. Then he coughed a bit, placing his elbows onto the counter and muttering “They make this shit look so much easier in the movies… Ow~, why do these bastards have to be so accurate? Seriously, in T.V. shows, they just keep shooting randomly for like ten minutes without anyone getting hit… It’s a good thing he didn’t hit anything important, hehe-heh~.”
The first thing that he focused on regenerating, was obviously his frontal lobe, temples and ocular nerves. Then there was some lower spinal damage, which took priority over the gaping holes in his chest and abdomen.
While the incredibly potent mana was coursing throughout his severely wounded body, he could constantly hear moaning and screaming from the floor behind him. Also, all of the gunshots and shouting had already woken up or alerted most of the people who were upstairs, in the barn next door or even the few who were in the basement.
It was still thundering outside, but unfortunately, everyone who wasn’t in the building, was alerted by CB radio. Michael knew that he only had a few seconds or minutes to recover from his wounds.
“Oh shut the fuck up and die already you bastards!” Once his gravest injuries were healed, he stood up and slowly walked over to a groaning middle-aged man, who was vomiting blood. After stepping on that slightly-exposed beer-belly, he murmured “JJ… rocket.” and a jet of flames shot out from his right heel.
That man’s eyes bulged out of his head, as his abdomen burst like an overheated pot-pie. Then the Nephilim nearly fell backwards, but managed to cut off the mana-supply and regain his balance within a few seconds.
Glancing around, he found a topless, pale-skinned teenage girl, with bright-red hair. She was crying and trying to crawl to the door, with a huge broken table-leg jutting out of her lower-back.
Michael sighed dramatically, complaining “Oh come on~, if you were a vampire, you’d be so dead right now… Ugh, don’t worry, I’m not an asshole, I’ll put you out of your misery.”
She turned onto her side and pointed her wooden rifle at his chest, screaming “No~! Somebody save me! Rick, help me~! No~! Demon!” Unfortunately for her, it was a bolt-action and her right shoulder had a gaping hole in it.
Thus, she couldn’t even offer up a little resistance, as the crimson-eyed man walked over, grabbed the gun and stomped down onto her face. The pink shoes had extremely rubbery soles, so it took a while to knock her unconscious.
As Michael cocked the rifle and was about to put a bullet through her brain, he heard a loud ‘bang’ come from behind him. He looked down and saw a metal barb sticking out of his already torn-apart, blood-soaked jeans.
The moment he turned around, the Nephilim roared “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! Who even has a goddamn harpoon gun?!” Even though he hit the dying, bald man between the eyes with the first shot, he still fired several more rounds into his corpse, before sucking the rifle into his inventory.