“Lord, the hellhounds have trapped the gunslinger in a small diner.” An imp approached Satan’s throne slowly, his head ducked and hands fidgeting close to his tiny red body.

Satan, sitting atop his fiery throne, gazed down at the small imp, his penetrable eyes burning a hole through the tiny being. The Devil let out a quick, small laugh; a puff of smoke rising from his mouth as he exhaled.

“He’s with others… but they’ll be no match for us.” The imp cackled and bobbed up and down slightly as he laughed a small scratchy laugh.

“I want him dead!” Satan’s fist slammed against the armrest of his throne. Hell seemed to shake underneath his power.

Satan looked as his minions did; only his eyes had a more menacing presence to them and his wings were tipped with small jagged claws. His arms and legs were muscular, as if he were a body trainer. Two swords, matching in size and design, were suspended inches from his waist. The butt of each sword ended in a short, small scythe-like blade.

A snarl escaped the Devil as his red eyes closed and his neck arched back. “Prepare the final wave… he is not far behind.”

The imp cackled again and scattered away from Satan.

“Mr. Laurence… I think I deserve a personal introduction.” Satan whispered to himself and broke off into maniacal laughter.

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The cities of heaven were growing more and more empty as the inhibitors of the once holy place gathered around the great throne and stared up into the white eyes of their lord. Staring back down at them was the ever-lovely glow of God’s eyes. No matter the situation, that beautiful gaze never left the Lord’s eyes.

As the Great One spoke, the rest listened with intent. “The moment is upon us! The time for us to take action is now…” God’s voice was full of rage. “One of the hybrids has contacted his power. To ensure that the leader does not contact the remaining 4, we will take the pre-emptive!”

A war cry rose from the crowd, the moral of the angelic army growing rapidly. Talk like this was never heard in heaven; never did God so much as mutter words pertaining to war.

At the base of the throne, the highest of angels smiled to themselves, their wings spread wide. The hour was upon them; the war has begun.

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After Jon and Andria gathered the final patron into the kitchen, the two returned to Denis’ side, each with a pathetic array of weaponry to defend themselves against what was to come.

“If this starts to get ugly, I want you two to head to the kitchen and get them out of here.” Denis’ turned his attention to Jon. “Then I want you to find Mark.”

Jon nodded and tightened his belt, which he used to hold a small arsenal of steak and butcher knives. A sigh escaped Jon as he turned to see Andria tighten her grip around a snapped off table leg.

“Oh yeah… we’re ready.” Jon rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Where’s David?” Denis questioned.

“He pussied out.” Jon rolled his eyes, pulling the larger of the butcher knives from his belt.

The sound of the useless barricade in front of the main doors breaking echoed throughout the diner. A repeated sound of something hard tapping against the tiled floor followed the uncomforting noise.

Denis tensed and pulled his handguns from their holsters. The grip he had around the handle tightened when another glass pane shattered underneath the weight of something. The slight tapping came in rapid secessions, signaling that several hellhounds had entered the diner.

“Get out of here… there’s too many of them.” Denis whispered to Jon and Andria, his breaths heavy under the nervousness that rushed through him.

“Denis you need…” Jon tried to protest, but was greeted by a stern look.

“Go!” Denis hollered.

Jon nodded hesitantly, grabbed Andria by the arm, and, nearly dragging her behind him, made a dash to the kitchen. As he reached the kitchen door, he heard the first bullet explode out of Denis’ guns.

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Denise raised one pistol as the tapping of talons against tile moved closer to his position. He started to shift his weight from foot to foot repeatedly, bobbing himself up and down anxiously as the tension inside his body grew stronger. The first of the beasts peered out from around the corner, its nostrils flared as it picked up the scent of its prey. Denise froze in his place, trained the barrel of the gun on the beast’s eye and fired.

An explosion of blood and puss splattered against the wall as the beast reared its head back and let out a terrible yelp, which was responded to by cries from the unseen hell beasts. A waterfall of reddish white liquids gushed from the now gaping hole in the hellhound’s skull. It staggered around as if trying to regain its posture, but soon after collapsed to the ground in its own mess of gore.

Denis smiled to himself and raised the other pistol; he trained it on the passageway the first creature now lay dead by. Seconds went by before everything seemed to fall dead again, and almost immediately an uncomfortable feeling of stillness settled over Denis. With much hesitation, he began to approach the passageway, his ears catching no sound but that of his own movement. Before he could reach the dead beast’s resting place, an explosion of sheet rock, wood, and paint chips burst out at him.

The wall nearest to him exploded in a large cloud of dust and debris. As Denis’ vision was horribly impaired, a terrible weight fell upon him and knocked him to the ground. The smell of rotted flesh and the snarling of a pissed off rottweiler overcame two of his senses. As he started to struggle against the pressing weight, his shoulders began to shred and bleed underneath the sharp tips of the hellhound’s claws.

When Denis’ vision finally cleared of the dust that had blown against him, he was greeted with the unfriendly view of jagged, red stained teeth and yellow eyes. He attempted to lift his arms, but the beast’s hind legs pinned both down. The more he struggled, the more the claws of the creature’s forearms scratched and tore at the flesh of his shoulders.

The hellhound opened its jaws wide and tilted his head to the side as if preparing to strike down upon Denis’ neck. A strong roar emitted from the fiend’s throat, which sent small, un-swallowed chunks of human flesh and bone at Denis. As its mouth opened more, the lower jaw snapped and cracked as it disconnected and lowered far enough for a human head to be able to fit between the two sets of teeth.

Denis’ eyes widened as he now stared down a small tunnel of darkness. The rotten smell hit him harder, which caused him to cringe and feel sick to his stomach. As the blood from his shoulder came out in rapid succession, he stopped his struggle and lay still as the creature slowly lowered its head towards his.
As panic rushed throughout him, Denis twisted his wrist, doing his best to finagle the gun to point at the creature’s body somewhere. When his head was completely engulfed in the creature’s darkness, he fired off several panic shots and felt a warm liquid splash in small amounts against his fingers. Light was once again introduced to his face as the hellhound snapped its head back and let out an ear-piercing screech.

The weight on his right shoulder lifted immediately as the beast turned its head to survey the damage done to it. Denis took the advantage he had and slid his right arm out from underneath the beast’s legs and pressed the gun against the creature’s neck. Pulling the trigger once, Denis was introduced to the taste and feel of the creature’s blood.

The hellhound rolled itself off of Denis and gargled, causing more and more blood to seep out from the bullet wound in its neck. Denis rolled away from the dying beast and hopped to his feet. He gagged as the taste of blood filled his mouth completely and just as he bent over to throw up, a second explosion erupted from the wall furthest from him.
Denis straightened himself out and fired shot after shot into the immense cloud of dust without any hesitation. As his firing continued, the dust cloud began to dissipate slowly, and from it immerged two hellhounds. Denis’ gunfire came to a stop as he took notice to a certain quality one of the hellhounds had; a round hole was present where the beast’s eye should have been. He snapped his head to where he took out the first of the attackers and found it to be occupied by nothing but the pool of fluids.
Denis’ eyes moved back to the two pursuers, and it was then he noticed that both were littered with bullet holes, but the movement of the beasts was impaired none. Underneath the low growls of the two pursuers, Denis heard a rustle from behind him. Regretfully, he turned and took in a quick breath of air as the neck-shot beast lifted itself to its feet slowly.