"What time is it?" Hatchet asked, stopping so that Stan nearly ran into her.
"What?" she looked over her shoulder with an expectant look and Stan coughed uncomfortably.
"Time. What is the time," she barked. Stan frowned but checked his watch.
"Nearly eight," he said with surprise. We've been down here a long time.
"In the morning?" Hatchet's voice rose in pitch.
"Yeah," Stan mused, "it should be daylight outside. All we need to do is reach it." Hatchet grumbled before turning back around. The duo continued down the tunnel in silence.
They had been traveling down the connecting tunnel for what seemed like forever but what must have been only half an hour. They hadn't changed their elevation much as far as Stan could tell and to him that was a good sign.
"How many bullets you got?" Stan asked, more to ease his nerves with conversation than for any tactical appraisal.
"Five," Hatchet answered without looking, "in this magazine. Then three more magazines of eight in my jacket."
"You expect a gunfight when you came to get me?" Stan chuckled.
"This is normal," Stan could hear Hatchet's sneering smile in her voice, "if I woulda known about the ghoul I woulda brought the streetsweeper out of the car."
"You do a lot of shooting in your line of work?" Stan asked, "I mean at things that shoot back of course."
"Sometimes," Hatchet shrugged. "I mean I've done some shooting in my time. Me and Flowers? We mostly did the cleaning up." There was a long pause. "Mister Flowers was in 'Nam. I never saw him touch a gun since."
"You're telling me he was some kinda pacifist?" Stan snorted.
"You some kinda idiot?" Hatchet turned to give Stan an annoyed glare, "he just found he liked using his hands better. That or a knife. He was good with both too."
"Yeah," Stan patted his bruised stomach for emphasis but winced at the pain, "I noticed he had a mean punch."
Hatchet stopped, holding up a hand, and Stan stopped too. Up ahead there was the faintest glimmer of light. Stan's heart leaped up into his throat for a moment before his cautious nature took control. When something's too good to be true...Stan thought.
"What's the move?" Stan tucked his flashlight under his armpit so that he could put on the thick brass knuckles he had been keeping in his jacket. Then it was on him.
The flashlight dropped from Stan's hand and went out as it hit the rough stone of the ground. Stan screamed as a thin, skeletal arm snaked its way under one of his with incredible speed. The arm wrenched upward and bony fingers covered in exposed sinew reached behind Stan's head to grab him around the neck. The other monstrous arm reached up and wrapped itself around Stan's neck from the front. Before he could react Stan was trapped.
"Stan!" Hatchet spun around with impressive speed, raising her gun to aim at Stan and the creature. "Get outta the way!"
"What do you think," Stan wheezed as the creature squeezed his neck with superhuman strength, "I'm trying to do." Stan tried to wrench himself free, shaking violently back and forth, but the creature wouldn't budge. It breathed a long sigh that stank of putrid flesh. Stan wanted to vomit.
"Let him go," Hatchet didn't move but instead ran her flashlight over the creature, seeing it in its entirety for the first time. It was disgusting. It was taller than a man so it had to stoop to use Stan's body to shield itself. It walked upright on thin hairy legs that ended in solid hooves and those legs were attached to an emaciated torso that looked like man who had died of starvation. The arms that snaked around Stan were thin and sinewy, ending in long, sharp fingers that seemed to be nothing but bone.
"Drop that," the creature gestured with its head at the gun. Its head was elongated like a buck or bull's, topped with jagged horns and the human speech coming from its inhuman mouth filled Hatchet with an overwhelming sense of dread. The voice was rotten.
"Not a chance," Hatchet's face drew into a scowl.
"Hatchet," Stan coughed out, "don't you dare shoot me!" Stan squirmed again but to no effect.
"Hurry," the creature spoke, its voice soft and decayed. It tightened its grip around Stan's neck.
Come on Stanley! a voice shouted in Stan's head, you gonna let this guy beat you? It took Stan a moment to realise the voice belonged to his brother, Ford. No, Stan's hands tightened into fists, gripping the knuckledusters tightly, hell no! Stan's vision was going dark, spotted with tiny flecks of bright white like stars. Think Stan, Ford's voice told him, outsmart him. Stan coughed loudly, he could hear the sound of crashing waves in his ears as the blood pressure built in his skull.
Stan screamed, bringing his free arm up to strike the creature right on the back of the hand. The swing came in a wide arc that swept across Stan's chest, letting the weight of Stan's hand and the brass carry it to the monstrous hand that gripped his neck. The impact sent a shockwave through the creature's hand and into Stan's head, blurring his dimmed vision. The creature's fingers were broken, the exposed bones visibly cracked.
Before it could react, Stan stepped down and out of the headlock. The thing still had his other arm but that was a problem for later. Stan threw his weight forward as he spun around to face his attacker. The creature howled and its fetid breath came at Stan in noxious waves as it gnashed its jagged teeth.
"Agh!" Stan screamed his best battle cry as he launched himself forward. The creature tried to control his arm but Stan's fist, encased in solid brass, struck the beast in the head. For a moment it was dazed and Stan pulled his other arm free. It recovered quickly and Stan had to dive backwards to avoid being eviscerated by its clawlike fingers.
"Stay down!" Hatchet's high voice boomed in the narrow space and Stan covered his ears with his hands in anticipation of the coming shots.
"Kill the son of a bitch!" Stan shouted as the creature dove forward at him. Hatchet fired.
The first bullet tore a ragged hole in the creature's gaunt stomach. The next shot went straight through, taking bits of shoulder bone with it. The next tiny lead shot crumpled against the creature's breastbone. The fourth went through its broken hand.
The creature howled in pain, blood pouring from its body in thick rivulets onto the stone. It sagged forward slowly for a moment and Stan tried to stand but the suddenly it was on him. It grabbed him by the throat with one massive hand and pulled him to his feet. It bared its teeth for a moment before lashing out, trying to bit him.
"Why!" Stan pulled his hands up to block its bite and its teeth sunk deeply into his forearm. Stan dropped his hand, shaking the creature off. Then he struck. Punch after punch of perfect form and unyielding brass. "Won't!" Stan blinked hot tears from his eyes as the creature sagged backwards. His arm was burning. He stepped forward, working the body before striking it across the jaw with a cross that lifted it off its feet. "You!" Stan stepped in and grabbed the creature around the head, punching its body over and over. "Die!" He stepped back and sprung up, his uppercut knocking the monster to the ground.
He was panting heavily now, his arm bleeding down onto his already filthy bandages. Hatchet came up beside him, coughing once to warn him before placing a hand on his shoulder. Stan flinched anyways and Hatchet pushed him aside gently. She walked over to the creature, standing over it with a look of disgust on her face.
"When you get to hell," she raised the gun, "you tell the devil that Mister Hatchet sent you." She pulled the trigger and the bullet left a mess of blood, brain, and skull on the stone below. She turned to look at Stan. "Let's get out of here."
To be concluded…
Author's Notes:
Ah! There it is. I hope you liked the action scene :) I try to take a lot of care in writing them so they don't seem gratuitous or too long so I would really like to know what you thought about it! Good? Bad? Shorter? Longer? More tension? More direct?
Anyways, now there's only one last chapter to go! See you all on Saturday :D
To Qatzol: Thank you so much! :D I appreciate the feedback. I hope their final battle was worth the wait. What will become of Hatchet? You'll just have to find out next time ;) For the Avatar fic, I'm not sure. I'll just have to find some inspiration (eg marathoning the show over the weekend). I appreciate the offer for ideas but I find it really hard to write if the idea isn't mine so I'm good for now. Thanks though :)