To RandomFanAuthor- ALWAYS CLIFFIES! And I will try to! I have a rough image of them, I'll send it over :P

To HoO Fan- Three reviews? Thank you! ^_^ Yes, Lou and Deadpool, the world is doomed :D Yep, I'm the one with the eagle and I tag all my art with my name so it's easier to find. I've not posted a lot yet, as I need to colour some pieces, but there's two or three up? And I love cliffhangers. That's why.

Louisa had her bow before Lucy-Jo even finished the sentence. Festus smothered the creature's legs in flames. Her arrow struck through its eye. It fell, limp and wretched, onto the dragon's head, tossed to one side in disgust. Leo yanked on the plating, drawing them higher.

That was the last Louisa saw of them, for a while. She prayed that she heard Festus roar on the frequent, but with the ensuing carnage, she could not be certain. Her world succumbed to these Bloods. It was all she could see, all she could hear, could smell, feel.

Vortex of grey, each swipe of her arm dispelled green to no avail, to no break. The incessant snarling flooded her ears, something warm splashed her face, copper leaking onto her tongue. Her foot caught on something; a quick glance down, a scream still on Klouter's face, her throat was gone. Claws sunk into her gut, jolting her lifeless form; the Blood advanced. Yellowed teeth dripping with Klouter's life filled Louisa's vision. She aimed a punch at its snout, slightly off through tears. What had Lucy-Jo meant, why would she need her? They weren't even a minute in and Klouter was gone.

More screams, more blood, there was gunfire now, bullets ripping through their foe like paper, snarling turning to delighted yipping and starved growls. She was covered in blood not hers. Was that Festus? Please let it be Festus.

For every dozen Festus torched, there was easily another thirty to replace them. From their vantage point, they could see no end to the beastly tide. The guns were effective against them, but they were also effective against the guns. Leo saw them bite through weapons and limbs as if no more troublesome than air more times than he cared to count.

The trucks unleashed thousands of bullets in a minute, cutting down so many, but still gaining no ground. A Blood leaped over a line of Keepers, gunfire splattering its underbelly, pouncing on the truck. It swatted one Keeper, trapped the other in its jaws. With a single swipe of its claws, it raked the gun straight from the bed. The driver made a dash for it from the passenger side. He did not get far.

The decimation of the truck left a gap. The Bloods lunged for it. Some Keepers got away. Some stood their ground, firing desperately. Leo didn't see what became of them, not sure his stomach could handle much more.

"Leo!" Calypso cried, shaking his shoulder. "We need to seal the breach!" She held her sword. He wasn't sure where it came from, but was grateful at the sight of it.

Festus ignited another row, turning under Leo's instruction as he did so. With a bat of his wings, they swept to the breach, incinerating two Bloods, who had already got through. Calypso got the third, launching herself from the dragon. She landed on its head, utilising her momentum to drive her blade through. The beast's body went limp, thumping to the earth and sliding along listlessly for a few yards.

She looked up, heart-pounding. Festus and Leo had landed almost a hundred metres behind the line, facing down the break.

Louisa yelled in frustration. She kicked and blasted and stabbed and launched herself whichever way she could, whichever Blood she could reach. The ground was sodden, her boots squelching, catching on a dismembered limb, another body. Her skin crawled with stickiness, her mind span at the reason. She owed Leo an apology.

Jaws sunk into her calf. She rammed her sword backwards, the metal juddering on skull. Grey matter splattered on her hand and wrist, sticking to her sleeve. She wrenched the blade free, limping. Sweat and blood seeped into her eyes; she blinked to rid herself of it, dragging the inside of her sleeve across her face.

The battle was gone when she opened her eyes, replaced with another. An army, clad in golden armour, shields almost as big as they were, spears bristling over the top. At the forefront, stabbing with her gladius, was Reyna.

"LEGION!" She yelled, cutting down a Cyclops. "Forward march! AVE ROMAE!"

"AVE ROMAE!"

Louisa started, bringing her sword up in time. The Blood's teeth shattered on its surface, forcing from it a pained yelp. She twisted, ramming her weapon through the roof of its mouth.

"Lou!" Lucy-Jo cried. "Don't disappear now!" Louisa could not respond, spitting a gobbet of someone else's blood.

It came in flashes from then on. A body at her feet. A Blood falling to her sword. A Blood shredded by a hurricane. Thunder. It was raining. Was it raining? Was that Festus? There was definitely fire coming from above. No, from the side. Someone screamed. A Blood vanished under a stream of green light. She could hear a heartbeat, was that her heartbeat? That was her heartbeat, too loud, too fast. Pains tightened her chest, blackened the edges of her vision. She landed a strike, then Reyna was there, plunging her spear into a hellhound. Lucy-Jo was there. Another Keeper went down, reaching for her. A bullet burned a gouge through her upper arm. Her shirt was more blood than material. Her stitches were gone, July was going to kill her. They were going to die, she was going to die, why had Lucy-Jo said she needed her, she was no good, no good!

"Louisa!" She blinked, coughed, raising her head a fraction. Reyna looked her in the eye, every inch a leader, every inch a friend. "You OK?"

"I- I can't do this…"

"I don't believe that."

"Wh-?"

"No, I don't believe that for a second. Come on, up." Reyna pulled on her arm, rising as she did so. Louisa's legs obeyed robotically. "If you can't do it, I'll eat my cloak."

"Reyna, I-" Louisa shook her head. Reyna looked at her, opening her mouth to speak.

Then she was gone. A Blood slammed into her, pinning her under one giant, gore-slickened paw. Her hand was empty, where was her sword? Its hot breath cascaded over her face, sickly and rotten, a sordid mix of saliva and blood dripping on her nose, down her cheek.

A sob caught in her throat. She really was going to die.

This was not what she wanted. This was not what she wanted.

Copper clogged her throat, lava streamed through her chest.

This was not what she wanted.